//?7 
 
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Cornell University Library 
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 Aglavaine and Selvsette 
 
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ofGLOVofi$(£ ^3\cd ssLTserte 
 
IN PREPARATION 
 
 Plays, Pleasant and Unpleasant 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE BERNARD SHAW 
 
 Two Volumes, 3s. 6d. each 
 
 With a Portrait of the A uthor in Photogravure 
 
AGLAVAINEand 
 SELYSETTE 
 
 A DRAMA ^ 
 ■IN FIVE ACTS 
 BY MAURICE ■ 
 MAETERLINCK 
 
 .TRANSLATED 
 
 BY ALFRED 
 SUTRO- 
 WITH AN 
 INTRODUCTION 
 BY -JW- 
 VHACKAIL 
 
4^ 
 
 3S 3£> 
 
 Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson &* Co. 
 London &* Edinburgh 
 
 .i.i .siU'.o;> 
 Y'i \v ;•; iVllllJ 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 In the remarkable volume of essays which M. 
 Maeterlinck published last year, a sentence occurs 
 which might be taken as the text of a discourse upon 
 his whole dramatic work and method. Les hommes, 
 he says, ont je ne sais quelle pew etrange de la beautS. 
 The drama of which an English rendering is given in 
 this volume is the latest of a series of plays in which, 
 with continually increasing power and subtlety, he 
 has attempted to disengage the inner beauty that 
 lies deep at the heart of life itself. The romantic 
 drama, with all its large possibilities of treatment, has 
 shrunk, except now and then in the hands of its 
 greatest masters, from the deepest expression of this 
 spiritual beauty. Where we feel most, we are often 
 most shy of saying all we mean ; and to express such 
 
vi INTRODUCTION 
 
 feelings in language that is at once adequate and 
 sincere implies skill and courage of no ordinary 
 degree. M. Maeterlinck is widely known as the 
 inventor of a dramatic method which, with certain 
 obvious imperfections, is vivid, flexible, far-reaching. 
 It is still more important to recognise that this 
 method is the vehicle of a new and strange sense 
 of beauty. 
 
 This newness, this strangeness of beauty, is what is 
 meant by the word romance ; and it is by comparison 
 with other movements of the romantic spirit that it 
 may best be appreciated in its real meaning. Being 
 of the nature of a new sense, and only incidentally 
 of a new method of expression, it does not appear at 
 once in definite forms. It may even wander about 
 from art to art, seeking for means of outlet. The 
 analogy which certainly exists between M. Maeter- 
 linck's dramatic pieces and the painting of his distin- 
 guished countryman, M. Fernand Khnopff, may be 
 traced back to a common impulse — that of expressing, 
 by such means as the existing arts supply or suggest, 
 the inner meaning and hidden beauty of things as 
 they are freshly felt by a mind which approaches them 
 quite courageously and quite simply. 
 
INTRODUCTION vii 
 
 The new romantic movement in Belgium has a close 
 historical relation to the great romantic movement of 
 France proper, the influence of which after sixty years 
 still remains unexhausted. But it also— as the 
 Belgian critics themselves point out — has been deeply 
 influenced by England. The direct study of the 
 Elizabethan drama has had an obvious effect on these 
 plays in choice of method and inspiration of subject. 
 And another English influence is not less certain or 
 less powerful — that of the romantic movement which 
 originated, some forty years ago, among an obscure 
 group of Oxford undergraduates, and which has since 
 effected so great a change, not only in specific arts like 
 poetry and painting, but in the serious daily thought 
 of mankind with regard to beauty. 
 
 La Princesse Maleine, the earliest and by far the 
 crudest and most fantastic of the plays, is also the one 
 which shows the Elizabethan influence in its most 
 direct action and at its highest force. The new thrill 
 which all romantic movements seek is attained in it 
 by the element of undefined supernatural suggestion, 
 which gives Macbeth and Samlet their unique horror, 
 and which is used with an inferior, but scarcely more 
 imitable magic by Shakespeare's great successors. 
 
xii INTRODUCTION 
 
 invented, one might almost say, certainly moulded to a 
 very distinct and individual form and use, a dramatic 
 method, subtle, vivid, fantastic, going curiously near 
 to the inner life and heart of things. They touched 
 the springs of pity and terror with extraordinary 
 power. They showed delicate insight, romantic feel- 
 ing, dramatic force of a high order. They showed a 
 power over language which was akin to a real creative 
 gift. Their faults were no less obvious. They were 
 those indicated once for all, in words unapproachable 
 for their delicate accuracy, by Keats in his famous 
 preface to Endymion : " great inexperience, im- 
 maturity, and every error denoting a feverish attempt 
 rather than a deed accomplished." " The imagination 
 of a boy is healthy" — one can hardly forbear going on 
 with the immortal words — " and the mature imagina- 
 tion of a man is healthy ; but there is a space of life 
 between, in which the soul is in a ferment, the 
 character undecided, the way of life uncertain." The 
 faculty of design, the certain control of beauty, 
 were still to come. But come they did. M. Maeter- 
 linck did not reply — probably did not listen — to the 
 murmurings of dislike, of ridicule, of half -uneasy con- 
 tempt with which a large number of his critics met 
 
INTRODUCTION xiii 
 
 him; his answer was the production, early in 1892, 
 of another romantic drama, Petteas et Melisande. 
 
 Of this play, all but faultless in its construction, 
 more than faultless in its beauty, it is difficult to 
 speak with tempered praise, or in words that shall 
 not seem extravagant. In virtue of mere beauty it 
 stands among the masterpieces of literature. All the 
 qualities of the earlier plays are disengaged from their 
 defects. The morbid tone has disappeared; the 
 fantastic element is under control. The symbolism 
 is set back to its proper plane. In the crude form in 
 which it is an uncomfortable quality at best, it only 
 remains in the brief and curiously exciting prologue. 
 The story is one of quite human beauty and sorrow. 
 Pelleas, Golaud, the young wife, the aged king, are no 
 phantasmal types, no reminiscences of some mediaeval 
 portrait gallery. The finding of Melisande, by the 
 well in the wood, out of which, like an Undine, she 
 might almost be fancied to have arisen, is the only 
 concession made to the purely fantastic side of 
 romance. But it is needless to insist upon the skill 
 with which it is worked into the structure of the 
 play, or the extraordinary force which it adds to the 
 final scene, with its wild spiritual beauty — elle est nee 
 
xiv INTRODUCTION 
 
 sans raison, pour mourir, et elle meurt sans raison — 
 
 " she came like water, and like wind she goes.'' 
 
 The advance in matured power is equally visible in 
 the management of the language. II n'y a guere (to 
 quote again from M. Maeterlinck the critic) que lea 
 paroles qui semblent (Tabord inutiles qui comptent dans 
 une ceuvre. In this somewhat paradoxical expression 
 one may recognise the restatement of an old truth ; 
 that in imaginative literature of a high order the 
 suggestion of the words is always more, and may be 
 quite infinitely more, than their expression. It is 
 this indefinable and incalculable power of suggestion 
 which gives poetry its romantic or magical note. 
 Language at a high tension may obtain a value 
 and a power of which it is impossible to give any 
 reasoned account, and which lies partly in the mere 
 poise and cadence of syllables, partly in the fact that 
 the thought or emotion which passes alive into the 
 words does not die there, but keeps in them some of 
 its own vital energy. In this play the language is 
 severely and almost nakedly simple. Even the rare 
 metaphors are introduced in the most curiously ten- 
 tative way, as of a person handling money in a strange 
 currency. On dirait par moments, qui il y a cent ans 
 
INTRODUCTION xv 
 
 queje ne Vai plus vue — the timid, laboured expression, 
 with its dragging syllables, is that of one to whom 
 words are still something magical. Its troubled 
 beauty lies poles apart from the facile rhetoric of the 
 traditional drama. 
 
 The use of language to produce the emotional 
 effect of music, which has been noticed as a distinctive 
 quality of M. Maeterlinck's work, is carried here to a 
 much higher degree of perfection. The echoes and 
 repetitions of phrase are used with increased skill, 
 more accurately judged and wrought in a freer and 
 larger pattern. It is well known that the structure 
 of Athenian literature, the demand which it made on 
 the perceptions of its readers, was both in prose and 
 verse immensely more complex than that of ours. 
 In this play the elaboration of the language, notwith- 
 standing its limpid clearness, is commensurate with 
 that of a Greek chorus. As in an ode of Pindar, 
 assonances and keywords he pages apart and only give 
 themselves up to minute observation. In one, and 
 that perhaps the most beautiful instance, the echo 
 reaches over more than half the play ; nor is there 
 anything in Shakespeare himself more poignant than 
 those words heard by the noonday fountain, and 
 
xvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 faintly repeated in the last scene by the girl's dying 
 
 lips. 
 
 Nor is the dramatic skill less striking than the 
 finished beauty of the language : and among those 
 who saw it performed in London in the summer of 
 1894 by M. Lugne-Poe and his company there seems 
 to be only one opinion as to its unusual scenic 
 effectiveness. It would seem to be the only one of 
 M. Maeterlinck's plays in which he has chosen to 
 comply rigorously with the conditions of the modern 
 stage. The three dramatic pieces which appeared in 
 a later volume are significantly described on the title 
 page as Petite Dromes pour Marionnetles, and revert, 
 though with an increased power and sureness of 
 touch, to the mystical or symbolic treatment of his 
 earlier works. 
 
 It is in this later group of plays that the second 
 great English influence which affected M. Maeter- 
 linck's work appears in its full force : that of the 
 Arthurian legend as interpreted anew by the individual 
 genius of two great English artists and thinkers. 
 The number of names transferred or adapted in these 
 plays from the story of the Bound Table is only one in- 
 dication of this influence: Pelleas, Ygraine, Palomides 
 
INTRODUCTION xvii 
 
 Tintagiles all come saturated with the associations of 
 the Mort d' Arthur. The Pre-Raphaelite movements 
 in poetry and in painting are alike expressions of 
 a certain Pre-B.aphaelitism of thought which on its 
 more imaginative side turns to that story, the fine 
 flower of mediaeval romance, as to its natural home. 
 The combination in these plays of an unusual direct- 
 ness of thought and straightforwardness of expression 
 with a troubled brooding, a pervading sense of some 
 unexpressed romantic or spiritual beauty, may remind 
 one sometimes of the early poetry and prose of Mr. 
 Morris himself. In The Hollow Lcmd there is a 
 wonderful passage in which the artifice of repetition 
 is used exactly as M. Maeterlinck uses it, with an 
 effect of magical magnificence, and it is certainly 
 significant that the author of Rapunzel and The 
 Defence of Guenevere, who seldom could be induced to 
 take much interest in a new author, and seldomer 
 still in a new dramatist, gave to Peltecbs et MeMscmde 
 the tribute of a praise as high as it was rare. 
 
 But even here the contrast is as striking as the 
 analogy. In the work of the English poet, the out- 
 ward world is dwelt upon with the utmost keenness 
 of observation and an almost physical delight in 
 
 b 
 
xviii INTRODUCTION 
 
 description. He had the eye that at a single glance 
 takes in everything " from the snail on the wall to 
 the setting sun," and the acute joy of the bodily 
 senses that can never have enough of definite form 
 and colour ; that lingers delightedly over the specks 
 of white in a painted book, the surface of wet slates 
 under torchlight, the folds of drapery, the curves of 
 armour. In combined sensitiveness to impression and 
 power of observation he is almost unequalled : and 
 there is perhaps no other poet of the first rank who 
 leaves so little to mere suggestion, in whom the 
 actual expression of the meaning he would convey 
 is so frank, explicit, and complete. M. Maeterlinck 
 is acutely sensitive, but one does not gather from the 
 plays that he is specially observant. "With him, 
 suggestion is nearly everything. The physical sur- 
 roundings of life are reduced to a series of formal, 
 repeatable, and sometimes almost abstract symbols; 
 and it is on the inner world, the still depths of 
 the human soul, that he concentrates his interest. 
 The " sad sick sunflowers " of A Good Knight in Prison 
 are the projection, upon the vividly seen and felt 
 outer world, of a certain mood of mind : how like in 
 tone, how totally different in means of expression, is 
 
INTRODUCTION xix 
 
 the wonderful Je crois que mes mains sont malades 
 aujourd'hui of the Princess Melisande ! 
 
 Almost from the first, M. Maeterlinck seems to 
 have arrived at definite notions as to the stock of 
 scenery which would be sufficient for his stage ; 
 and he brings pieces of it out again, when they are 
 needed, with the utmost nonchalance. An admirer of 
 his has been heard to say that " he was sick of that 
 tower" when it reappeared once more in Aglavaine 
 el SUysette. In La Princesse Maleine, the scene was 
 definitely placed in the Netherlands, the greater part 
 of it at the castle of Ysselmonde, among the languid 
 tides and fever-stricken estuaries of the Meuse. In 
 the other plays no place or country is definitely 
 indicated. There are features in the scenery which 
 convey suggestions of Ghent and the author's home 
 near the great canal of Terneuse ; of the threading 
 waterways of that forlorn-looking city, its three 
 hundred bridges, its huge prison, the two great 
 asylums for the blind and dumb, the little dreamy 
 world of the Beguinage. In such surroundings Les 
 Aveugles and La Mart de Tintagiles might not un- 
 naturally frame themselves. But through all the 
 plays something of the same atmosphere may be felt 
 
xx INTRODUCTION 
 
 as a faintly indicated background : old thinly inhabited 
 castles, terraced and moated ; trailing canals ; trees in 
 long files and avenues ; a tower in the middle of a 
 wood, haunted by sea-fowl from the bordering ocean ; 
 curtain-like draperies of cloud off a low coast ; silent 
 pools suddenly startled by the beating of swans' 
 wings in the dusk. Beyond all, we feel the perpetual 
 presence of water; tinkling from a fountain in the 
 middle of a wood, sounding dully in vaults under 
 ground, washing against terraced cliffs and sea- 
 caverns, shining in flat spaces of dull silver, running 
 before the wind in little green waves, ubiquitous, in- 
 filtrating, all-surrounding, as though the solid earth 
 itself might melt into it. Nor is he ever tired of 
 strange, variable effects of light : the gleam over 
 sheets of water, skies thick-sown with stars, fire in the 
 dusk, lamplight from indoors striking suddenly out of 
 a window on green boughs of trees. 
 
 For the play which is here presented in an English 
 dress no special words of preface are required. It 
 may be left to make its own impression. Some of its 
 indefinable charm of language must no doubt be lost in 
 a translation ; and the rounded completeness of PeUeas 
 et Melisande, the finished repose in which it ends, are 
 
INTRODUCTION xxi 
 
 scarcely rivalled here. Aglavaine et Selysette ends on a 
 cry, haunting indeed, but not satisfying. In the Tresor 
 des Hvmble8 M. Maeterlinck appeared as a professed 
 Neo-Platonist, a thinker and mystic, saturated in 
 Emerson, and finding inspiration from Plotinus and 
 Swedenborg. This growing philosophic passion may 
 involve a certain expense of dramatic quality. But 
 there is here an even higher attainment in delicate 
 insight, and in the power of expressing by simple 
 words some of the subtlest and most elusive shades of 
 emotion. 
 
 It has little interplay of action. The invention of 
 the third actor, as Aristotle notes, was the capital 
 point in the development of the drama. Here there 
 are in effect only two. Beyond Aglavaine and 
 Selysette themselves there are really no characters. 
 It is this which places it in dramatic quality on a 
 different plane from Pelleas et MUisande, with its 
 subtle and masterly interaction of three forces. Here 
 Meleandre only stands still while the two great forces 
 are at their work. He and Meligrane are not so 
 much persons as necessary dramatic symbols — one 
 might say, a part of the scenery in its largest sense ; 
 and Yssaline (unlike the child Yniold in Pelleas et 
 
xxii INTRODUCTION 
 
 Melisande, who takes a definite part in the evolution 
 of the tragedy) is merely a way of obtaining more 
 vivid and heightened expression for one side of 
 Selysette. But praise cannot be too high for the 
 fineness and truth of the two principal figures ; nor 
 for the consummate skill with which the interest, the 
 sympathy, the beauty are slowly slid from one to the 
 other, as Selysette unfolds larger and larger, until she 
 blots out her brilliant rival. Nor, given the story 
 with its two actors, is there any inferiority in its 
 dramatic handling. One point beyond all deserves 
 special notice. The artifice of repetition, already 
 applied with such subtle skill to language, is here 
 extended with wonderful effect to action. The 
 doubling of the scene on the tower in the fourth act, 
 led up to by the doubled meeting in the corridor, 
 brings the action itself towards the condition of 
 music. A situation which, abstractly stated, is com- 
 monplace to the verge of sordidness, has been sub- 
 tilised into profound meaning and triumphant 
 beauty. 
 
 This inner beauty of human life, of which M. 
 Maeterlinck is so curious and subtle an interpreter, is 
 also its inner truth. Haec omnia in figura contin- 
 
INTRODUCTION xxiii 
 
 gebant ittis : scripta sunt autem ad correptionem 
 nostrum, in quos fines seculwum devenerunt. We live 
 in a period rich almost beyond parallel in accumu- 
 lated treasures of beauty, produced by the great 
 artists and thinkers of Western Europe during the 
 last hundred years. But it is only from living art of 
 its own that any age can draw real life. It relieves 
 the darkness of our outlook to see, amid the triumph 
 of an ugliness that grows day by day more insolent, 
 more elaborate, more all-pervasive, the unconquerable 
 resurgence of beauty — la domination d'une dme qui se 
 laisse etre belle. 
 
 J. W. MAOKAIL. 
 
tAGLtAVMNj; ^fnip seLrserre 
 
 Translated by Alfred Sutro 
 
PERSONS OF THE PLJT 
 
 Heleander. 
 aolavaine. 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Meligrane (Selysette's grandmother). 
 
 Little Yssaline (Selysette's sister). 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 ACT FIRST 
 
 A Boom in the Castle. 
 
 Meligrane is asleep on a high-hacked chair at the far 
 end of the room. Enter Meleander and Sely- 
 sette. 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 I will read you Aglavaine's letter : "Do not go out 
 to meet me. Wait for me in the room wherein you 
 linger, every evening, till it be time for slumber — and 
 thus shall I not come upon you as a stranger. It is 
 as I leave the boat that has brought me to you that I 
 write these lines. Our crossing was very calm and 
 beautiful, but, when I landed, I found the roads all 
 sodden with the rain ; and the sun will probably have 
 set ere I behold the towers of the old castle wherein 
 
2 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 our good Selysette has offered shelter to her brother's 
 widow. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 [Clapping her hands.] Oh ! the sun is setting ! . . . 
 Look! — she must be near at hand. ... I will see 
 whether .... 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 [Staying her with a gesture, and continuing to read.] 
 "... I have only seen you once, Meleander, and it was 
 in the midst of the confusion and distraction of my 
 wedding — my poor wedding, alas! where we beheld 
 not the guest none ever invite, but who always usurps 
 the seat of the happiness we look for. Only once have 
 I seen you, and more than three years have passed by 
 since then ; but I come to you as confidently as though 
 we two had known each other from infancy, and 
 had been rocked to sleep in the same cradle. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 [Turning round.] Oh ! Grandam is still asleep ! . . . 
 Ought we to wake her when Aglavaine comes ? . . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 Yes, it is her wish. . . . 
 
AGLAVAINB AND SELYSETTE 3 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Her eyes are almost hidden beneath her white hair. 
 . . . She is not happy to-night. . . . Oh ! I want to 
 kiss her. . . 
 
 Meleandee. 
 
 Be careful you do not wake her too soon. . . . [He 
 continues to read.] " And, coming to you, I know 
 full well that it is a brother who will greet me ! . . . 
 We said but little to each other, yet were the few 
 words you spoke shaped differently from all those I 
 had heard till then. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Do not read so quickly. . . 
 
 Meleandee. 
 
 [Reading.] "... And besides, I look forward so 
 eagerly to taking Selysette in my arms ! . . . She must 
 be so good, she must be so beautiful, since she loves 
 you and is beloved of you. I feel that I shall love her 
 much more than you ever can, for I know how to give 
 more love ; I have been unhappy. . . . And now, I am 
 glad to have suffered ; I shall be able to share with 
 you all that sorrow brings us. There are times when 
 I think that the tribute I have paid may well suffice 
 
4 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 for the three of us ; that destiny can have no further 
 claim upon us and that we may look forward to a 
 marvellous life. We shall seek happiness, and naught 
 beside. And for you and for me, for Selysette too, 
 to judge from the little you have told me of her, it 
 is only in the purest sanctuary of our soul that happi- 
 ness is to be found. No other care shall be ours 
 than to become as beautiful as can be, so that we may 
 ever love each other the more ; and we shall become 
 good from the mere force of loving. We shall so fill 
 ourselves, and all that is about us, with beauty, that 
 there will no longer be room for sorrow or misfortune ; 
 and, would these none the less force their entrance, 
 needs must they too become beautiful before they 
 dare knock against our door." 
 
 [A door opens. Enter little Yssaline. 
 
 YSS ALINE. 
 
 I have the key, little sister, I have the key ! . . . 
 
 Meleandeb. 
 What key? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 The key of the old lighthouse. 
 
 Meleandek. 
 I thought it had been lost. . . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE $ 
 
 Selysette. 
 I have had another one made. 
 
 Meleander. 
 I shall be glad if you lose that one too. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 [Examining the key.] Oh ! how large it is ! . . . It 
 does not look like the one I lost. 
 
 Yssaline. 
 I was there, little sister, when they tried it. . . . They 
 opened the door three times, then they shut it again. . . . 
 It fits much better than the other key, which was all 
 rusty. . . . But they found it difficult to close the door 
 the last time, because of the wind, which was pushing 
 from the other side. . . . There is a great wind to-night. 
 You can hear the sea-gulls all round the tower ; and 
 the doves too. . . . They have not yet gone to sleep. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 They are looking for me ; they have not seen me 
 up there for a long time — two weeks and more. ... I 
 will go to-morrow. 
 
 Yssaline. 
 With me, little sister ? 
 
6 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Yes, if you will go to bed at once ; your nurse is 
 waiting. . . . [Yssaline goes.] She is beautiful ? . . . 
 
 
 Meleander, 
 
 Who? 
 
 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Aglavaine 
 
 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 Yes, very 
 
 beautiful. . . . 
 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 "Whom is 
 
 she like? 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 She is like no other woman. . . . Her beauty is 
 different, that is all . . . stranger and more ethereal ; 
 it is never the same — one might almost say it was 
 more manifold ... it is a beauty along which the 
 soul can pass unhindered . . . and her hair is very 
 strange. . . . You will see. . . It seems to take part 
 in every one of her thoughts. ... As she is happy or 
 sad so does her hair smile or weep, and this even at 
 times when she herself scarcely knows whether she 
 should be happy or whether she should be sad. ... I 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 7 
 
 have never seen hair so full of life. ... It would be 
 constantly betraying her, if betrayal it could be to 
 reveal a beauty one fain would hide ; for that is all she 
 ever has to hide. . . . 
 
 Seltsettb. 
 I know I am not beautiful. . . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 You will never say that again, once she is here. It 
 is impossible to say anything that one does not believe, 
 or that is useless, in her presence. Nothing can live 
 near her that is not true. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Nothing can live near her that is not true. . . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 Selysette? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Meleander ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 "We have been living together for nearly four years, 
 have we not ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 It will be four years, when the summer ends. 
 
8 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Mbleandee. 
 Nearly four years that you have been by my side, 
 always beautiful, always tender and loving, and the 
 soft smile on your lips revealed the deep happiness 
 within. . . . Tell me, you have not shed many tears 
 during these four years ? At most some few little tears 
 at times when a pet bird flew away, or your grandmother 
 reproved you, or your favourite flowers died. But no 
 sooner had the bird returned, or your grandmother 
 been appeased — no sooner were the flowers forgotten 
 than you came back into the room laughing merrily ; 
 and the doors would shake and windows fly open and 
 all sorts of things be knocked over as you leaped 
 upon my knee, kissing me like a little girl home from 
 school. I think we may fairly claim to have been 
 happy; and yet there are times when I wonder 
 whether we have truly lived near enough to each 
 other. ... I know not whether it was I who lacked the 
 patience to follow you, or you who fled too swiftly ; but 
 often, when I would try to speak to you as I spoke 
 just now, you would seem to reply to me from the 
 other end of the world, where reasons that are 
 unknown to me had impelled you to seek refuge. . . . 
 Can it indeed be that our soul stands in such dread of 
 a little earnestness, of a little more truth, in love ? 
 Have we not many times forced ourselves to keep 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 9 
 
 aloof from something that might have been beautiful, 
 that might have drawn us closer together than a kiss 
 on the lips ? ... I do not know why this is borne 
 home to me so clearly this evening. — Is it because 
 Aglavaine lives more freshly in my memory ? Has her 
 letter, the news of her arrival, already freed some- 
 thing in our soul ? — You and I would seem to have 
 loved each other as much as it is possible to love. 
 But, when she is there, we shall love each other still 
 more ; we shall love each other differently, our love 
 will go deeper down — you will see. . . . And this it 
 is above all that makes me so glad of her coming. . . . 
 Alone, I could not. ... I have not the power she 
 possesses, though I see as she sees. She is one of 
 those to whom it is given to unite the soul with its 
 fountain-head : and when she is there one feels that 
 there is no longer anything between oneself and that 
 which is truth. . . . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 Love her if you will. I shall go away. . . . 
 
 Meleandeb. 
 Selysette! . . . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 
 I know that I cannot understand. . . . 
 
io AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTB 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 You do understand, Selysette, and it is because I 
 know that you understand, though you feign the 
 contrary, that I speak to you of these things. . . 
 There are depths in your soul that you never reveal 
 to me ; nay, you take pleasure in hiding them, when 
 I go forth in search of you. . . Do not cry, Selysette, 
 I am far from reproaching you. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 I am not crying. Wherefore should I cry ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 And yet I can see that your lips are trembling. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 My thoughts were far away. . . Is it true that 
 she has been very unhappy ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 Yes, she has been very unhappy on account of your 
 brother. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Perhaps she deserved to be. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE n 
 
 Meleakder. 
 
 I doubt whether a woman can ever have deserved 
 to be very unhappy. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 "What did my brother do to her ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 She begged me not to tell you. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 You have been writing to each other ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 Yes ; from time to time. 
 
 Selysette. 
 You never told me. 
 
 M.ELE ADDER. 
 
 When letters came from her I have more than 
 once shown them to you, but you did not seem anxious 
 to read them. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I don't remember. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 But I remember it well. . . 
 
12 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTB 
 
 Selysette. 
 Where was it that you saw her for the last time ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 I told you that I had only seen her once ; it was in 
 the grounds of your brother's castle. . . . With great 
 trees spreading over us. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 In the evening ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 Yes ; in the evening. 
 
 Seltsette. 
 What did she say ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 We said but little to each other. But we could see 
 that the lives of both of us tended towards the same 
 goal. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Did you kiss each other ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 When? 
 
 Selysette. 
 On that evening. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSBTTE 13 
 
 Meleander. 
 Yes, when I went away. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Ah! 
 
 Meleander, 
 
 I think she will stay but a short time with us, 
 
 Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 No, no ; I want her to stay. . . . [There is a noise 
 
 outside.] There she is! [She runs to the window.] 
 
 There are torches in the courtyard. 
 
 [A moment's silence. The great door opens and 
 
 Aglavaine appears on the threshold. She 
 
 comes in without saying a word, and stands 
 
 in front of Selysette, looking fixedly at 
 
 her. 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 Will you not kiss each other ? 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Yes. [She presses a long hiss on Selysette's lips, 
 then goes to Meleander, whom she kisses likewise.] 
 And you too. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I must awaken grandam. . . . 
 
14 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE. 
 
 AGLAVAINE. 
 [Looking at Meligrane.] How profoundly she 
 sleeps ! . . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 She lies asleep like this for many hours each day. 
 . . . Her arms are paralysed. ... Go close to her ; 
 she wishes to see you to-night. . . . 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 [Taking Meligrane's hand and bending over her.] 
 Grandmother ! . . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 [Awaking.] Selysette ! . . . [She opens her eyes.] Oh ! 
 who are you ? 
 
 AGLAVAINE. 
 
 Aglavaine. . . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 I was frightened. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 May I kiss you, grandmother ? 
 
 Meligrane. 
 You call me grandmother ? I cannot see you very 
 well. . . , Who is that behind you ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 [Coming forward.] It is I, grandam. 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 15 
 
 Meligrane. 
 Ah ! it is you, Selysette. ... I could not see you. . . . 
 Bring the lamp a little nearer, my child. . . . 
 
 [Selysette brings a lamp, whose light falls on 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Meligrane. 
 [Looking at Aglavaine.] Oh ! you are beautiful ! . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 May I kiss you now, grandmother ? 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 No ; do not kiss me to-night. . . . The pain is worse 
 than usual. Selysette is the only one who can touch 
 me without hurting me. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 That is what I want to learn, too — to touch with- 
 out hurting. . . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 [Eyeing her fixedly.] I wonder whether it can be 
 right to be so beautiful. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Surely it is ordained that we should be as beautiful 
 as it is possible to be, grandmother. . ■ . 
 
16 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Meligbane. 
 
 Kiss me, Selysette, before I go to sleep again, and 
 take away the latnp. ... I was in the midst of a 
 strange dream, . . . 
 
 Selysette, 
 
 [Going back with the lamp.] You must forgive her ; 
 she suffers so much. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 What is there to forgive, Selysette ? You have 
 dropped something. . . . What is it that has fallen 
 on the floor? [She picks up a key.] Oh! what a 
 strange key ! . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 It is the key of my tower. . . . You don't know all 
 that it throws open. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 It is strange and heavy. ... I, too, have brought 
 a golden key ; you shall see. ... So long as we know 
 not what it opens, nothing can be more beautiful 
 than a key. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 You shall know to-morrow. . . . Did you notice, 
 when you came here, a very old tower, with its turret 
 all in ruins, at the far end of the castle ? 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 17 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Yes ; I saw something that seemed to be crumbling 
 beneath the sky. The stars shone through the crevices 
 
 in the wall. 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Well, that is it ; it is my tower — an old forsaken 
 lighthouse. No one dared to go up there. . . . You have 
 to traverse a long corridor, of which I found the key. 
 But then I lost it again. . . . Now I have had another 
 one made, for I am the only one who goes there. 
 Sometimes Yssaline accompanies me. Meleander only 
 went once ; he felt giddy. It is very high — you will 
 see. The ocean stretches before you. It foams all 
 round the tower, except on the castle side. And all 
 the birds of the sea live in the crevices of the walls. 
 They send forth loud cries when they recognise me. 
 There are hundreds of doves, too; people tried to 
 drive them away, but they refuse to leave the tower. 
 They always come back. . . . Are you tired ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Yes, a little, Selysette. I have had a long journey. 
 
 Selysette. 
 Yes, of course. . . . We will go thither to-morrow ; 
 and besides, there is a strong wind to-night. . . . 
 
 [A silence. 
 
18 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE. 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 It is strange, Aglavaine. ... I had so much to tell 
 you. . . . But in these first moments everything is 
 still, and I feel as though there were something we 
 were waiting for. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 "We are waiting for the silence to speak. . . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 What does it say to you ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 It would not be the real silence, Meleander, were 
 we able to repeat all that it tells us. . . . We have 
 exchanged a few, almost meaningless, words — words 
 that any one could have spoken — and for all that, do 
 we not feel at rest, do we not know that we have said 
 things to each other that far outvalue our words ? We 
 have uttered the little timid words that strangers 
 speak when they meet ; and yet, who can tell all that 
 has taken place between the three of us ? Who can 
 tell whether all that has to happen may not have 
 been decided beneath one of these words? ... Is 
 there any destiny that words have never influenced ? 
 But this much our silence has foretold to me ; 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 19 
 
 it is that I shall love Selysette like a little 
 sister. ... It cried that out to me, through all my 
 soul, as I took my first step into the room ; and it is 
 the only voice that has been clear to me. . . . [Drawing 
 Selysette to her.] Why is it, Selysette, that one has to 
 love you so dearly, and that the unbidden tears flow 
 forth as one kisses you ? . . . [She presses a long kiss 
 on her lips.] Come, you too, Meleander. . . . [She kisses 
 him likewise.] It was perhaps this kiss for which we 
 were all waiting, and it will be the seal of our silence 
 for the night. . . . 
 
 [They go out. 
 
ACT SECOND 
 
 Scene I. — A leafy grove mi ike park. 
 
 Enter Aglavaine and Meleander. 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 For five or six days only have we been living 
 together under this roof, and already can I scarcely 
 realise that we were not born in the same cradle. It 
 seems to me that we can never have been separated ; 
 that I must have known you before I knew myself. 
 All that I am appears to result from you ; I am more 
 conscious of your soul than of my own, you are 
 nearer to me than all that is myself ; and were it said 
 to me " you must save your life " it is your life that I 
 should have to save, so that I might live. . . . Were 
 you not there I should no longer be conscious of 
 myself ; it is only in you that I can smile, only in 
 you that I can love. Often does it seem to me as 
 though my soul, my being, and all that in them lies, 
 had changed their dwelling-place, and when my arms 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 21 
 
 are about you, they appear but to enfold that part of 
 myself which is not of this world, and I cannot keep 
 back my tears. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 So it is with me, too, Meleander. When I 
 embrace you I seem to be embracing myself as I shall 
 be when greater beauty has come to me. . . It is 
 only when you are by me that I am beautiful ; it is 
 only by the side of your soul that I can listen to my 
 own. I go in search of myself and it is in you that I 
 am to be found : I seek you and discover you within 
 myself. . . Neither our hands, nor our souls, nor 
 our lips, seem to exist apart. . . I can no longer 
 tell whether you are the radiance of me or whether I 
 am becoming your light. . . So strangely does all 
 blend within us that it is impossible to discover where 
 the one begins and the other leaves off. . . Your 
 least gesture reveals me to myself ; there is not a 
 smile, not a silence, not a word that comes from you but 
 links me to a newer beauty. . . I feel that I flower 
 in you as you flower in me ; and we are ever 
 springing to birth again in each other. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 There is but one thing that still divides us ; it is 
 our constant wonder. . . 
 
22 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Yes ; I marvel day and night that a being such as 
 you should actually exist. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 I too, Aglavaine. . . My eyes, my hands, my ears 
 no longer suffice for me. . . As I look at you, as I 
 listen to you, I tell myself that I am dreaming ; when 
 you are no longer there, I am sure it has been nothing 
 but a dream ; when I no longer hear your voice I feel 
 that my senses have been deceiving me. . . Then you 
 appear again, and still I can scarcely believe. . . I 
 see you, I hear you, my arms enfold you, and even at 
 that moment 1 fain would fly, so as to seek certainty, 
 away from you. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I too, Meleander. . . When I am by your side, I 
 yet desire to leave you, so that I may be alone and thus 
 behold you the nearer ; and when I am alone I 
 wander forth in search of you, for I know that your 
 soul is waiting for me, and holds me infinitely more 
 beautiful than I can imagine. . . I know not what it is 
 we should do, in the midst of happiness such as ours . 
 and times there are when the mere force of gladness 
 brings sorrow to me. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 23 
 
 Meleander. 
 Where were you all these years of our life, when it 
 never dawned upon us that the two of us were 
 living? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I was thinking of that, too, Meleander ; our souls 
 speak to each other long before the words .leave our 
 
 lips. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 And yet it is only after you have spoken to me 
 that I hear the voice of my soul. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 So it is with me too, Meleander. As I listen to you, 
 it is my soul that I hear j when I am silent, it is 
 your soul that speaks to me. . . I can no longer find 
 my soul without yours be there, too. And do I go in 
 search of your soul, it is there that I find my own. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 The same world is within us, Aglavaine. . . Doubt- 
 less must God have erred when he fashioned two souls 
 out of our one. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 And you, Meleander, where were you, all these 
 years that I have been waiting, in solitude ? . . . 
 
24 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Meleander. 
 I was alone, too, and waiting, but hope had left 
 
 me. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I was alone, and waiting, but had never ceased to 
 
 hope. . . 
 
 Meleandeb. 
 
 But who told you that some one was waiting for 
 you as I have been ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 No one told me ; and nothing was known to me — 
 
 unless it be perhaps the things one knows without 
 
 knowing ; and I knew you well though I never had 
 
 seen you. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 But could you love me as deeply as I loved you, 
 before you had met me ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 And you, my Meleander, had you seen me, before 
 we met, even as I had seen you ? . . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 I cannot conceive that this thing that has happened 
 to us can ever have happened to any one ; I cannot 
 conceive that there can be other lives like our life. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 2J 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Oh, there are times when I feel that it cannot be ! . . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 I too, Aglavaine, and it frightens me. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Why should you be frightened? . . . "We have 
 found each other, what can there be to fear ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 Is it not at the very moment of happiness that fear 
 should come to us ? . . . Is that not the most ominous 
 time of all ? for not a kiss is given but an enemy may 
 be awakened . . . and besides there is something 
 else. . . . 
 
 What? 
 
 Selysette. . . 
 
 Well? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Meleander. 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Meleander. 
 Have you thought of Selysette ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Yes. 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 And does that not trouble you ? 
 
36 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 No, Meleander, it shall trouble me no more. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 There may be sorrow in store for her. -. . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Can I not love you like a brother, Meleander ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 But if her tears fall ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Let her ascend with us, and her tears will soon 
 cease to flow. . . . Why should she not strive hand-in- 
 hand with us towards the love that disdains the 
 pettiness of love ? She is more beautiful than you 
 believe, Meleander. We will hold out our hands to 
 her ; she will soon rejoin us, and then she will weep 
 no more. . . . And she will bless us for the tears she 
 has shed, for some tears are sweeter than kisses. . . 
 
 Ah! 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 Do you believe I can love you like a sister, 
 Aglavaine ? 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSBTTE 27 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 Do you believe you can love me like a brother, 
 Aglavaine ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Now that you have asked me, I no longer seem 
 to know, Meleander. . . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 I can believe it no longer. We shall struggle day 
 and night ; we shall struggle for a long, long time ; 
 and all that is most beautiful in us, all that might 
 have turned into exquisite love, into beauty and 
 deepest truth, will be exhausted in this futile effort. 
 . . . And the more we struggle, the more shall we be 
 conscious of a desire creeping up between our two 
 souls like a heavy curtain. . . And all that is best 
 within us will perish, because of this desire. . . It 
 would seem to be but a very small thing that 
 underlies all this, and yet may this small thing be 
 strong enough to dissever two souls for all time from 
 their most perfect beauty. . . Is it not by the kiss we 
 give that all things are transformed — stars and flowers, 
 night and morning, thoughts and tears ? ... Is the 
 immensity of the night as clear to the sister's eyes as it 
 is to those of the woman who loves ? Let us not bar the 
 door to the most beautiful of all truths, Aglavaine. . . . 
 
28 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Let not all the radiance of our two souls go break itself 
 against one petty falsehood. . . You are not my sister, 
 Aglavaine, and I cannot love you like a sister. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 It is true that you are not my brother, Meleander ; 
 
 and it is here, doubtless, that suffering lies in wait for 
 
 us. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 Do you, too, then, love the suffering that serves no 
 
 purpose ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 No, Meleander, but I do love the suffering that I 
 can take away from others. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 But what suffering is there here that we can take 
 
 from others without killing all that is best in 
 
 ourselves ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 That is not yet known to us, Meleander, still must 
 
 we act as though we did know — and if error there 
 
 has to be, better that it should be at the expense of 
 
 ourselves. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 I know it, Aglavaine, but what can we do ? . . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 29 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 It was destiny that brought us together, Meleander. 
 We recognised each other as perhaps two souls have 
 never recognised each other before. "We love; and 
 henceforth there is nothing in the world that can 
 bring about that I shall cease to love you, or that you 
 shall no longer love me. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 That I believe, too, Aglavaine. — I see nothing in 
 the world. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 But were I to make an innocent creature weep, 
 would I be the same to you ? . . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 If her tears flow, it will only be because she has 
 
 not understood. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Not the less dolorous are the tears shed in error. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 There would be nothing left for us but to fly from 
 each other, Aglavaine ; yet that is impossible ! . . . A 
 thing of so much beauty was not born only to die ; and 
 needs must we have duties towards ourselves. . . . 
 
30 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I believe that, too, Meleander ; and I believe that 
 there is something better to be done than to fly from 
 one another. . . I cannot conceive that these things 
 should have come to birth only to end in tears. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 "Why they come to birth we know not, Aglavaine ; 
 but we do know that never have we long to wait for 
 tears. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 In the meanwhile, if suffering there must be, let 
 that suffering be ours. . . .There are countless forms of 
 duty, Meleander ; but I feel that we can rarely be 
 wrong in trying first of all to relieve the feeble of 
 their suffering, so that we may bear it ourselves. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 [Taking her in his arms.] You are beautiful, 
 Aglavaine. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 [Throwing her arms around him.] I love you, 
 Meleander. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 Is it you who are crying, Aglavaine ? . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 31 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 No ; it is we, Meleander. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 And is it we who are trembling ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Yes. . . 
 
 {They kiss each other. A cry of pain is heard, 
 through the foliage, and Selysette is seen, all 
 dishevelled, flying towards the castle. 
 
 Meleander. 
 Selysette ! . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Yes. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 She has overheard us. . . She is flying to the 
 castle. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 [Pointing to Selysette, who is already far away.] 
 Go after her ! . . . Go ! . . . 
 
 [He rushes after Selysette. Aglavaine leans 
 against a tree and weeps silently. 
 
32 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Scene II. — In the depths of the park. Aglavaine is 
 
 asleep on a bench, with a veil thrown rosmd her 
 
 head. 
 
 Enter Selysette. 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 " Selysette, little Selysette, we must not let her cry." 
 . . . He pities me, because he no longer loves me. . . 
 Neither do I love him any more. . . They fancy that 
 I shall keep very quiet, and that all they have to do 
 is to kiss me with their eyes turned away. . . 
 " Selysette, little Selysette." . . They say that very 
 tenderly ; oh, much more tenderly than they used to. 
 . . . "When he kisses me now he dares not look at 
 me ; or if he does, he seems to be begging for forgive- 
 ness. . . And while they are embracing each other 
 I must crouch away and hide, as though I had stolen 
 something. . . They have gone out again to-night, 
 and I have lost sight of them. . . " Little Selysette " is 
 not in the secret ... we always smile when we 
 speak to her ... we kiss her on the forehead . . . and 
 bring her flowers and fruit. . . The stranger takes 
 " little Selysette " under her wing . . . and we cry 
 when we kiss her, and say, " Poor little thing . . . 
 there is nothing to be done. . . . She will not go 
 away . . . but at least she shall not see anything "... 
 
AG LA V A IN E AND SELYSETTE 33 
 
 . . . and when her head is turned we take each other 
 by the hand . . . yes, yes, till the time comes . . . 
 only wait, wait. . . . "Little Selysette " will have 
 her day too. . . . She does not yet quite know 
 what she ought to do, but wait a little ... we 
 shall see. . . [Perceiving Aglavaine on the bench.] 
 There they are ! . . . Asleep in . each other's arms ! 
 ... Oh ! this ! this ! . . . I must . . . Yssaline ! 
 Grandam ! . . . They must see . . . they must see 
 this ! . . . There is no one coming ! . . . I am alone, 
 always. ... I will . . . [Going closer.] She is alone, 
 too . . . was it a ray of the moon or her white veil ? 
 Perhaps . . . She is asleep. What shall I do ? . . . 
 Oh, she doesn't know ! . . . She is on the brink of 
 the reservoir ; a sudden turn and she would fall into 
 the tank ... it has been raining . . . she threw 
 her veil over her head, but her bosom is bare . . . she 
 is wet through . . . how cold she must be . . . this 
 country is strange to her . . . Did she fall down or 
 can she be ill? . . . Oh, how she trembles in her 
 sleep ! . . . I will put my cloak around her . . . [She 
 covers Aglavaine up and lifts the veil that hides her 
 face.] How deep is this sleep of hers ! . . . She looks 
 as though she had been crying . . . she does not 
 seem happy . . . she seems no happier than I . . . 
 How pale she is ; she is crying too, I see. . . . She is 
 
 c 
 
34 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 beautiful. . . . She is even more beautiful when she 
 is so pale . . . she seems to blend with the light of 
 the moon ... I must wake her gently . . . she 
 might be frightened and fall into the well . . . 
 [Bending tenderly over her.~\ Aglavaine . . . Agla- 
 vaine . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 [Waking.'] Ah ! . . . how light it is. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Be careful . . . you are on the edge of the quay. 
 . . . Don't turn round, you would be giddy. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Where am I ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 By the side of the soft water reservoirs of the 
 castle . . . Didn't you know ? » . . You came here 
 by yourself. One has to be very careful ; this spot is 
 dangerous. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I didn't know ... it was so dark. ... I saw the 
 
 boxwood hedge, and a bench. ... I was weary, and 
 
 sad. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Are you cold ? Draw the cloak around you. . . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 35 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Whose cloak is this ? Yours, Selysette ? You put 
 it over me while I was sleeping? You must be 
 cold. . . . Come hither, let me wrap it round you 
 too. . . . You are trembling more than I, . . . 
 [Turning rounds] Oh ! I see. . . . Now that the 
 moon has risen I can see the glimmer of the water 
 between the walls. ... If I had moved . . . and it 
 is you. . . . [She throws a long look at Selysette and 
 puts her arms around her.] Selysette. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Let us not stay here . . . there is fever about this 
 
 place. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Let us never interfere with moments such as these, 
 Selysette. . . . They do not come a second time. . . . 
 I have seen your soul, Selysette, for just now you 
 loved me, though it was against your will. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 We shall catch cold, Aglavaine. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 I beseech you, Selysette, do not try to elude me at 
 the very moment when all that is deepest in you is 
 
36 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 striving towards me. . . . Do you think I cannot 
 hear the efforts that are being made ? ... Do you 
 think we shall ever be nearer to each other? . . . 
 Shall we allow little childish words, little words that 
 are as thorns, to steal between these poor hearts of 
 ours ? . . . Let us speak to each other like human 
 beings, like the poor human beings we are, who 
 speak as best they can, with their hands, with their 
 eyes, with their soul, at times when they fain would 
 utter things too real for words to touch them. . . . 
 Do you think I cannot hear the rushing of your soul ? 
 . . . Come close to me, Selysette, come close to me in the 
 night and let my arms enfold you ; and it matters 
 not though you find no words to answer. . . . Some- 
 thing is speaking within you, and I hear it as you hear 
 
 it. , . , 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 [Bursting into tears.] Aglavaine. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Aglavaine's tears are falling too, Selysette. . . . She 
 is weeping for that she also is ignorant of the thing 
 that should be done, the thing that should be said. . . . 
 We are alone here, my poor Selysette ; we two are all 
 alone here in the darkness, clinging closely to each 
 other . . . and the happiness or unhappiness that 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 37 
 
 must befall is being decided within us, at this very 
 moment, perhaps. . . . But what is to be none can 
 tell. And naught but my tears have I wherewith 
 to question the future. I held myself the wiser 
 of the two, but now that the moment has come that 
 calls for wisdom I feel that my need of you is greater 
 than your, need of 1 me. And therefore do my tears 
 flow, Selysette, and therefore do I press my lips 
 upon yours, so that we two may be as near as is possible 
 to that which is being decided in the depths of us. 
 I hurt you sorely this morning. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 No, no ; you did not hurt me. . . . 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I hurt you sorely this morning, and my one 
 desire is never to hurt you again. But how can 
 we help giving pain to those we love the most? 
 Truly does it seem that no sooner do we love 
 another than we draw down upon that other, as well 
 as upon ourselves, sorrows that till then had kept 
 aloof. . . . And even thus have your first tears been 
 called forth by the kiss that was born for you alone, 
 the kiss that I gave at the moment when I felt that 
 my love for you was greater than it ever had been 
 before. . . . 
 
38 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 It is true that I have been crying, Aglavaine ; but 
 it was foolish of me. ... I shall not cry any more. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Never is the path of wisdom clear to us, my poor 
 Selysette. Those who weep may be wise or foolish ; 
 it matters not ; our endeavour must be to wipe away 
 their tears and see they cry no more. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 [Sobbing.] Aglavaine ! 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 What is it, Selysette ? You are trembling. 
 
 Selysette. 
 It was the first time I had seen you asleep. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 You will often see me asleep, Selysette. 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 And no one had ever told me anything. . . . No 
 one, no one 1 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 39 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Yes, yes, my poor Selysette, they will doubtless 
 have told you the things they tell to all ; for there 
 are none but can speak when they will ; and the words 
 that are needful can be heard by all ; but you had 
 not yet learned to listen. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 It was not the same thing. . . . Never, never. . . , 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Because you did not listen, .Selysette ; and look you, 
 it is not only the ear that listens ; and the things 
 that I am saying to you now have not been truly 
 heard save by your heart alone, and your heart has 
 flung the words aside, and gathered only that I love 
 you. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 I love you, too. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 And therefore have you listened to me, and under- 
 stood so well all that I cannot say. It is not only our 
 hands that are joined at this moment, my poor Sely- 
 sette. . . . But Meleander loves you too. "Why 
 would you not listen to him ? . . , 
 
40 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 He is not like you, Aglavaine. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 He is better than I ; and more than once must he 
 have spoken to you far better than it is possible for 
 
 me to speak. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 No, no ! it is not the same thing. . . . Listen, I 
 
 -cannot quite explain what I mean. When he is there 
 
 I hide within myself. ... I keep back my tears. . . . 
 
 I do not want him to think I understand. ... I 
 
 love him too much. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Say on, Selysette . . . and I will kiss you, softly, 
 
 as you speak. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 It is so difficult. . . . You will never understand, 
 and I know not how to tell you. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Though I fail to understand your words, I shall 
 know what your tears are saying. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 "Well, there it is, Aglavaine. ... I do not want him 
 to love me for anything else. ... I want him to love 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 41 
 
 me because it is I. . . . Oh, it is impossible to say 
 quite what I mean ! ... I do not want him to love me 
 because I agree with him, or because I can answer 
 him. ... It is as though I were jealous of myself. 
 Can you understand a little, Aglavaine ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 When we look into a crystal vase we can soon tell 
 whether there be pure water within, Selysette. . . , 
 You were afraid lest he should see how beautiful you 
 are. . . . This fear comes often unto those who love, 
 and who know not why they fear. . . . We are too 
 anxious, perhaps, that the others should divine. . . . 
 And it is a fear that should be overcome. . . . And 
 look you, Selysette, by dint of hiding from others 
 the self that is within us, we may end by being unable 
 to find it ourselves. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 I know I am unwise, Aglavaine. ... I would 
 have him love me, even though I knew nothing, 
 though I did nothing, though I saw nothing, though 
 I were nothing. ... I feel that I would have him love 
 me though I no longer existed. . . . And so I hid, I 
 hid. ... I wanted to keep everything hidden. ... It 
 is not his fault, Aglavaine. . . . And so I was glad 
 when he shrugged his shoulders or shook his head as 
 
42 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 he kissed me . . . much happier than when he ad- 
 mired me. . . . But I suppose I am wrong in wishing 
 to be loved like this ? . ■ . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Who can tell how we should love, Selysette ? . . . 
 Some love one way, some another ; love does this 
 or that, and it is always well, for that it is love. . . . 
 In the very heart of us have we built love's cage, and 
 we eye it as we would a vulture or strange eagle. . . 
 The cage is ours, but the bird belongs to none. We 
 watch it timidly, we ward off cold and hunger, yet 
 know we not what it will do. We know not, will it 
 take flight and bruise itself against the bars, or will 
 it break forth into song. . . . There is nothing 
 in the world that is further away from us than our 
 love, my poor Selysette. Needs must we wait, and 
 try to understand. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Do you love him, Aglavaine ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Whom, Selysette ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 Meleander. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 How can I help loving him ? 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 43 
 
 Selysette. 
 But do you love him as I love him ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 I try to love him as I love you, Selysette. 
 
 Selysette. 
 But if your love for him became too great ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 I do not think one's love can ever be too great. 
 
 Selysette. 
 But if he loves you more than he loves me ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 He will love in you what he loved in me, for it is 
 all one. . . . There is not a creature in the world so 
 like to me as Meleander. How could he not love 
 you, seeing that I love you ? And how could I love 
 you if he did not ? He would no longer be like 
 himself, or like me. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 There is nothing in me that he can love, and so 
 much is known to you that I shall never know. . . . 
 
44 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Kiss me, Selysette, and believe me when I tell you 
 that all my knowledge may well be worth no more 
 than what you deem your ignorance. ... I shall 
 show him that you are more beautiful than he 
 thought, that your feelings lie far deeper too. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Can you bring about that he will still love me whea 
 you are there ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 "Were he no longer to love you because of my being 
 here, I would go away at once, Selysette. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 I will not let you go away. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Needs would that have to be, for I should no 
 longer love. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 It would make me very unhappy, Aglavaine. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 It may be so, Selysette. . . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 45 
 
 Selysette, 
 
 Oh, I am beginning to love you, to love you, 
 Aglavaine! . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I have loved you for a long time. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 I have not ; and when first I saw you I did not 
 love you, although I loved you all the same, . . . There 
 was a moment when I wanted . . . oh ! wicked 
 things, very wicked. . . But I did not know that 
 you were like this. I should have been wicked had 
 I been you. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 No, no, my poor Selysette ... in your real self you 
 would never have been wicked, but, being unhappy, 
 you would not have known how to be good. . . . You 
 would have thought it your duty to be wicked 
 because you had not the courage to be good. We 
 wish every possible ill to befall such as offend us ; 
 and then, with the least misfortune that comes to 
 them, we would gladly give them all the happiness 
 we possess could we but dry their tears. But why 
 not love them before the misfortune befell ? It can 
 never be wrong to be beforehand with our love, for 
 
46 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 with no one in this world does happiness abide unto 
 the end. . . . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 
 I should like to kiss you again, Aglavaine. ... It is 
 strange ; at first I could not kiss you. ... Oh ! I was 
 afraid of your lips ... I know not why . . . and 
 now. . . . Does he often kiss you ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 He? 
 
 Seltsette. 
 Yes. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Yes, Selysette, and I kiss him too. 
 
 Selysette. 
 Why? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Because there are things that cannot be told other- 
 wise than by a kiss. . . . Because it is perhaps only when 
 summoned by a kiss that all that is deepest and 
 purest issues forth from our soul. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 You can kiss him when I am there, Aglavaine. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 If you wish it I will never kiss him again. 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 47 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 [Suddenly bv/rsting into tears.] And you can kiss 
 him when I am not there. . . . 
 
 [She leans on Aglavaine's shoulder and sobs 
 softly. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Do not weep, Selysette, for you are becoming very 
 beautiful. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I know not why I am crying. I am not unhappy. 
 ... I am glad I awakened you, Aglavaine. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I too am glad to have awakened you, Selysette. . . . 
 Come, let us go. ... It is well not to linger too long in 
 a spot where one's soul has been happier than a 
 human soul may be. . . . 
 
 [They go out together with their arms about 
 each other. 
 
48 AGLAVAINE AND S ELY SETT E 
 
 Scene III. — A room in the Castle. 
 
 Meligrane and Selysette are at the far end in the 
 shadow. 
 
 Meligeane. 
 
 It is too much for you, my poor Selysette, say what 
 you will. . . . You shake your head, but at this very 
 moment you are wiping away your tears. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 But, grandam, have I not told you that it is only 
 because I am happy that my tears flow ? . . . 
 
 Meligeane. 
 When people are happy they do not cry like that. . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Oh yes, they must; otherwise, why should I be 
 crying? . . , 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 Listen to me, Selysette. . . . Just now I heard all 
 you had to tell me about Aglavaine. I cannot 
 speak like she does. I am an old woman who 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 49 
 
 know but little, yet I have suffered, too, and you 
 are all I have in the world. . . There are truths 
 in these things, let me tell you, that may, perhaps, 
 not be as beautiful as those whereof Aglavaine speaks ; 
 but it is not always the most beautiful truths that are 
 right, and the oldest and simplest that are wrong. . . 
 One thing is very clear to me, my poor Selysette ; and 
 that is that, for all your smiles, your cheek is ever 
 growing paler and paler, and no sooner do you believe 
 you are alone than your tears begin to flow. . . It 
 is wrong to struggle against oneself like this. . . We 
 tell ourselves that our tears are unreasonable, that 
 they are not beautiful ; but only too often, when the 
 end of our life draws near, do we find that it was the 
 tears, and the tears alone, that knew. . . There are, I 
 know, many things more beautiful than tears, and 
 it were often better not to cry. . . But when our 
 tears flow, notwithstanding all our efforts, then must 
 we needs believe in the truth of them, and tell our- 
 selves that there is something in them truer still than 
 all the things of beauty we see above them. . . For, 
 look you, Selysette, it is often destiny that speaks 
 through our tears, and it is perhaps from out the 
 very depths of the future that they flow into our eyes. 
 [Aglavaine enters, tmperceived, at the back of 
 the room. 
 
 D 
 
50 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Meligeane. 
 You have been crying for a long, long time, my 
 poor Selysette, and you know full well that cry you 
 will have to, still. . . And tell me how you think 
 all this can end. . . I have turned it over patiently, 
 sitting here in this corner of mine, and I am doing 
 what I can to speak calmly, though I grieve to see 
 the suffering that has come to you, and that you have 
 done nothing to deserve. There is only one human 
 solution to sorrows such as these ; either must one of 
 you die or the other go away. . . And who should go 
 away, if not the one whom destiny sent too late ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Why she, rather than the one who came too soon ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 [Coming forward.] One cannot come too soon, my 
 poor Selysette . . . one comes when the hour has 
 sounded, and I think our grandmother is right. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 If she be right there is much unhappiness before 
 
 us. . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 And if she be wrong, still will there be tears. . . 
 
 Ah ! Selysette, most often there is nothing left to us 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 51 
 
 but to choose our tears, and if I hearkened only to 
 this poor wisdom of mine, I would tell you that it 
 behoves us to choose the most beautiful, and here it is 
 the tears that have been falling from your eyes that 
 are the most beautiful. . . But for some days past I 
 too have been uneasy, and more than once have I told 
 myself that there must be a deeper truth underlying 
 the truths within our grasp, a deeper truth that is 
 waiting in the innermost heart of us for its moment 
 to come, and by no word of ours can its smile be 
 lessened or its tears dispelled . . . and to-day I 
 believe I have discovered this truth, and it will guide 
 our footsteps, though we strive our hardest against it. 
 Adieu, my Selysette ; kiss me. It is late ; Meleander 
 is waiting for you. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 "Will you not come with me and embrace him with 
 me, Aglavaine ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I shall never kiss him again, Selysette. When we 
 are together I shall press my lips on yours, and thus 
 shall I tell him all I have to tell, even as though it 
 had been his lips that were joined to mine. . . 
 
52 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 What has happened, Aglavaine ? Your eyes are 
 shining, You are keeping something from me. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 My eyes are shining because I have no longer any- 
 thing to keep back, Selysette. . . But a few moments 
 ago I realised how far deeper lay his love for you 
 than he imagined. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Did he say so ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Nay, had he said so then had I not been so sure. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 And you, Aglavaine, does he not love you any 
 
 more? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 He loves me less than he loves you, Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Oh ! my poor Aglavaine ! . . . But it is impossible. . . 
 Why should he love you less ? Tell me what to do. 
 And if you are not happy you must not be alone 
 to-night. . . Shall I stay with you ? . . . I will tell 
 him. , . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 53 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 No, no ... go to him, Selysette . . . never shall 
 I be happier than I am to-night. . . 
 
 [They kiss each other silently and go out by 
 different doors. 
 
ACT THIRD 
 
 Scene I. — In the Park. 
 
 Enter Meleander and Selysette. 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Forgive me, Meleander — you would rather be 
 alone, I know. I am always a cause of sorrow to you ; 
 but I will only stay a moment. . . I have just come 
 from Aglavaine's room — she is already asleep; I 
 kissed her on the lips and she awoke not, though 
 the stars were shining on her bed. . . I shall not 
 keep you long ; and then we will go and wake her, 
 for she is sobbing in her sleep ... I was afraid to 
 wake her by myself — but there is something I 
 want to ask you ... so far, I do not know whether 
 I am right or wrong — or whether it be good or bad 
 ... I cannot ask Aglavaine, and you will forgive me 
 if I am mistaken. 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 55 
 
 Meleander. 
 What is it, Selysette ? — Come hither, to this bench, 
 and sit upon my knee. I will play with your hair 
 while you talk to me; and not seeing me, you will 
 be able to speak out more bravely ... I believe 
 there is something that presses heavily on your 
 heart. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Not on my heart, Meleander . . . but on me . . . 
 I know not where ... on my soul, perhaps ... it 
 is something that weighs me down and makes 
 me understand — what ? . . . I know nothing of 
 it yet, but I am happier than when my soul was 
 free. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 What a change has taken place in you, Selysette ! 
 I wanted to speak to you, too — your face is not as it 
 used to be, and not even beneath my kisses do the 
 tender flowers of your cheeks spring to life ; for- 
 merly you were wont to smile when I kissed you 
 like this. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 In those days my smile may have been more 
 frequent, Meleander, but I am far happier now. . . 
 
56 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 I know not, Selysette . . . there are times when 
 the poor heart is almost overwhelmed, and the soul 
 still deems itself happy. . . But enough of this; 
 tell me first of all what it is that distresses you 
 to-night. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Aglavaine is going. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 Who ? — Aglavaine ? Did she say so to you ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Yes. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 When ? . . . And why is she going ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 She did not say . . . but she will certainly go ; for 
 now she thinks it is right, and that it should be done 
 • . . and I am asking myself whether it would not be 
 better that I should go instead. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 Who ? — You, Selysette ? — But what can have hap- 
 pened ? . . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 57 
 
 Selysette. 
 Nothing Las happened, Meleander ; and I beseech 
 you, say not a word of this to Aglavaine — you 
 would only call forth her tears, though there be no 
 cause for them. . . But, you see, Meleander, I have 
 been thinking these things over, too, while you and 
 she have been together and I sat there by the side of 
 our grandmother . . . and when you two came back, 
 you were always so happy, so united, that every one 
 was compelled to be silent, as you drew near. I 
 have often said to myself that I am only a poor little 
 creature who could never follow in your footsteps ; 
 but you have both been so good to me that I did 
 not realise this as soon as I should, and you 
 have often wanted me to go with you, because I was 
 sad. And when I was there, each of you seemed 
 to be very lighthearted, but there was not the same 
 happiness in your two souls, and I was between you 
 like a stranger shivering with cold. And yet it 
 was not your fault, nor was it my fault either. I 
 know full well that I cannot understand ; but I 
 know also that this thing must be understood. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 My dear, dear and good Selysette, Aglavaine is 
 
58 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE. 
 
 right — I never thought you were so beautiful . . . 
 but what is it that you think you do not understand ? 
 — Do you imagine that we understand something 
 that you do not ? Alas ! my poor Selysette, let us but 
 go beneath the surface of things, and how small does 
 the difference become ! And none can tell the 
 reasons of their love. But from the moment that 
 you have been able to say what you have just said, it 
 is no longer necessary for you to understand ; it is I, 
 and I alone, who did not know. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 No, no, my poor Meleander, it is your heart that 
 says this. . . I know all that I should be, but I 
 never can be what you are. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 I no longer recognise you, Selysette, and I had 
 seen nothing . . . when you speak to me like this, I 
 ask myself from what heaven you have flown. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 From Aglavaine, Meleander. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 Aglavaine inspires us all, dear child ; from the 
 
AGLAVAINB AND SELYSETTE 59 
 
 moment we know her, beauty becomes the fountain of 
 our life . . . but do you believe, Selysette, that there 
 can possibly be much difference between your soul 
 and that of Aglavaine ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Yes, Meleander, there is a great difference, it seems 
 to me. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 I do not believe it, Selysette . . . and now that all 
 that lay beneath that childlike smile of yours is being 
 revealed to me, I believe it less and less. . . It is 
 always the soul that knows how to display itself that 
 attracts us, but the one that hides is no less beautiful ; 
 nay it may well be more beautiful, by dint of its 
 very unconsciousness. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 No, no ; though I tried my hardest, there would 
 always be a difference, Meleander; and whenever 
 something I do pleases you, it is only because I have 
 been trying to imitate Aglavaine. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 Selysette. . . 
 
60 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Oh Meleander, I did not say that to reproach you 
 . . . did you think it was meant as a reproach ? I 
 am no longer as I used to be, and I shall never 
 reproach any one again. Even I myself cannot tell 
 why I have changed like this, and if any one had told 
 me, a little time ago, that the sadness that would 
 befall me would bring happiness with it, and that I 
 should one day press my lips on the lips of the 
 woman you were to love — if any one had told me this, 
 I should never have believed it ; and yet it has all 
 come to pass and I cannot help it. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 I wonder what it is that Heaven will exact in 
 return for having allowed two such women to be near 
 me. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I am only a very insignificant creature, Meleander, 
 but I too would like to be more beautiful than I am, 
 and I too would have you love me with weeping eyes, 
 even as your eyes weep when you admire her. 
 
 Meleander. 
 To whom do you refer ? . . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 61 
 
 Sblysette. 
 
 To her of whom I am sure you think, whenever 
 you are silent. . . 
 
 Meleandek. 
 
 When I am near you, my thoughts are of her ; and 
 when I am by her side, it is of you that I think. . . 
 
 Selvsette. 
 I know full well that it is not the same thing, 
 Meleander, nor are the tears the same. . . Those 
 sent by pity lie much nearer to hand, while the others 
 can never be forgotten. . . And though you tell 
 me that you love me, thinking thus to drive away my 
 sadness, you can never say to me the things you say 
 to Aglavaine. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 Perhaps I could not say the same things, Selysette. 
 The things that we really wish to say can never be 
 put into words, and it may be that when we wish to 
 speak very earnestly to one we love, we are but 
 replying to questions that the ears cannot hear. 
 And never do two different souls ask the same 
 questions. And therefore, though we know it 
 not, are our words never the same. . . But the 
 
62 AGLAVAINH AND SELYSETTE 
 
 questions that your candid soul puts to me, my poor 
 Selysette, are as beautiful as the questions of Agla- 
 vaine's soul. . . They come from another region, 
 that is all. So let that not sadden you, Selysette. 
 We must never be jealous of the soul. . . Do you 
 not believe that at this moment I am speaking to 
 you, in the heart of- me, as I would speak to 
 Aglavaine ? Do you imagine that anything could 
 be said to a living creature that I am not saying to 
 you ? ... Oh my beautiful Selysette ! were an angel 
 from Heaven to float into my arms, into the place 
 that is yours, I could not lay bare my soul more 
 simply or more profoundly than I do to you. . . 
 And all the rest, that should be said, cannot be 
 whispered here below. Let us wait, Selysette; 
 Aglavaine will go or will not go; that is known to 
 her alone and she will do what is right. . . But 
 whether she go or stay, she will have shown me 
 where your beauty lies, she will have taught me to 
 love you at last as I never yet have loved. And 
 whatever happens, Selysette, if tears must needs be 
 shed, it is not you who must shed them. And 
 besides, do you imagine that we could be happy if you 
 left us, dear child? . . . Do you think that a 
 happiness woven out of the sufferings of a little 
 creature like yourself, so pure and so gentle, could be 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 63 
 
 a lasting happiness ? Do you think it would be worthy 
 of us ? ... Do you think that if we were to accept 
 such a happiness Aglavaine could love me or that I 
 could take her to my heart ? Our love lies far above 
 ourselves, Selysette ; there where we love each other 
 we are pure and beautiful, and there too do we meet 
 you, and for some time now, thanks to you, we have 
 no longer had to love you without seeing you. . . 
 Come, give me your lips. . . I kiss you on your 
 soul to-night, Selysette. . . Come, midnight is strik- 
 ing. . . Let us go and see whether Aglavaine's 
 dream be still weeping through her sleep. . . 
 
 [They go out with their arms about each other. 
 
 SCENE II.— A Boom in the Castle. 
 
 Enter Aglavaine and Meleander. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Do you hear that door being closed ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 Yes. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 It is Selysette. . . She heard us coming and 
 wishes to leave us alone together. . . 
 
64 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 She said to me that she would be going to her 
 tower this morning ; they have told her of a great 
 strange bird. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I am certain she must have been here ; the whole 
 room seems to be awaiting her return. . . Look at 
 the little work things she has left by the window . . . 
 the skeins of silk, the jewels, the gold and silver 
 threads. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 And here is her ring with our names inscribed in 
 it. . . And there are violets — and here is her 
 handkerchief. . . [He takes the handkerchief and 
 trembles as he touches it.~\ Ah ! . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 What is it? . . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 [Hands her the handkerchief.] Here. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Ah! . . . 
 
AGLAVA1NE AND SELYSETTE 65 
 
 Meleander. 
 It is still warm with her tears. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 You see, Meleander ... as she will not speak, 
 here are these smallest things of all that speak for 
 her and tell me it is time. . . [She takes the 
 handkerchief.] Give it to me, Meleander. . . Poor 
 little witness of all that is hidden from us, not to 
 understand thee one must be dead indeed. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 Aglavaine. . . 
 
 [He tries to kiss her. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Do not kiss me to-day. . . Love her well, Mele- 
 ander. . . I rejoice and I grieve at the suffering 
 that her added beauty brings to her. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 I know not what to believe, Aglavaine. . . There 
 are times when I seem to love her almost as much as 
 I love you, and times when I love her more than you, 
 for that she is further from me, or that I understand 
 her less. .^ And then, when I see you again, all of 
 
 E 
 
66 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 her disappears, I no longer am conscious of her . . . 
 and yet, were I to lose her for ever, not a kiss would 
 I give you again but would be tinged with deepest 
 sadness. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I know that you love her, Meleander, and therefore 
 must I go. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 But it is only in you that I can love her, 
 Aglavaine, and when you are far away, all my love 
 will have flown. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I know that you love her, Meleander, and so well 
 do I know it that I have more than once envied the 
 poor little girl the love you gave her. . . Ah! do 
 not think that I am perfect ! ... If Selysette is no 
 longer the child she seemed to be, I too have changed 
 since I came to live among you. When I came I was 
 wiser than one had need to be. I told myself that 
 beauty could not be blamed for the tears it caused to 
 flow, and I believed the goodness vain that had 
 not wisdom for its guide. But now I realise that 
 true goodness is human and foolish, and stands in 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 67 
 
 no need of wisdom. . . I thought myself the most 
 beautiful of women ; I know now that the feeblest of 
 creatures are as beautiful as I, and they know not of 
 their beauty. . . When I look at Selysette, I ask 
 myself whether the timid efforts of her tender soul 
 be not greater, and thousands and thousands of 
 times purer and more beautiful, than anything that I 
 can do. There is something in my heart that whispers 
 to me that she is unspeakably beautiful. She has 
 only to stretch out her hands, and they come 
 back laden with her heart's treasure, and she offers 
 the priceless gems as tremblingly as might a little 
 maid who was blind, and knew not that her two 
 hands were full of diamonds and pearls. • . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 It is strange, Aglavaine. . . "When you speak to 
 me of her I admire you and you only, and I love you 
 more and more. . . You praise her, but the praise 
 falls back on you, and nothing in this world can make 
 it otherwise. My love for her can never approach 
 my love for you, even though a God so willed it. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 That is the injustice of love ; were you to praise 
 your brother to me, it is yovrself that would become 
 
68 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 more beautiful in my ^eyes. . . Oh Meleander, my 
 heart is full of tears and my lips yearn for yours I 
 ... I fear it is impossible that those who love 
 should love no longer. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 Yes, it seems impossible to me, Aglavaine. . . 
 And I felt it just now, as I was speaking to 
 Selysette, for as I spoke to her I realised that 
 nothing that I said or she said, or that I thought or 
 she thought, could have any influence on love. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 "When I came here, Meleander, I believed that all 
 things were possible, and that no one would be called 
 upon to suffer. . . But now I see that life refuses 
 to conform to our plans, be they never so beautiful. 
 . , . And I feel too that were I to linger by your 
 side and cause others to suffer, I should no longer be 
 what you are, nor would you be what I am, and our 
 love would no longer be the same as our love of 
 to-day. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 It may be so, Aglavaine. . . And, for all that, 
 should we not be in the right ? . . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTB 69 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Ah, Meleander, it matters so little whether one be 
 right or not! Better, I think, be wrong all one's 
 life than bring tears to the eyes of those who are not 
 in the right ! . . . I too know all that might be said ; 
 but why say it, seeing that we know full well that it 
 can nowise alter the deeper truth that will have none of 
 our most beautiful words. . . It is this we must listen 
 to, this truth that disdains fair speeches ! Notwith- 
 standing all that we say and do, it is the simplicity of 
 things that directs our life ; and to struggle against 
 that which is simple is only to court failure. . . 
 Why were we made to meet, you and I, when it was 
 too late? Who knows? Who would dare to say 
 that destiny and Providence are not one ? ... It is 
 the voice of our souls that I am trying to hear 
 to-day; and well do I know that what they have 
 tranquilly decided in the depths of us can be changed 
 by no words of ours. . . We are so wise at this 
 moment, my poor Meleander, that those who might 
 chance to hear us would go away saying, " Either must 
 their love be girt with ice, or they know not what 
 true love is," for the lovers of an hour dream not of 
 loving there where our love lies. . . 
 
70 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 [Clasping her in his arms.] I love you, Aglavaine ; 
 and it is ihe best love of all that is coming upon 
 us. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 [Putting her arms around his neck.] I love you, 
 Meleander, and the love that is coming upon us is 
 the love that never dies. . . 
 
 [A silence. 
 Meleandek. 
 
 And now tell me, Aglavaine, have you given a 
 thought to what our life will be in the time to come, 
 when we shall be far away from each other, when all 
 that will remain of this great love of ours will be the 
 faint memory that will fade away like all memories ? 
 What shall I be doing next year ? "What will you be 
 doing next year, out yonder? . . . The weary days 
 and months will frown at us as we stretch out 
 yearning arms to each other across the emptiness. 
 . . . Alas, my Aglavaine, I have no desire for tears ; 
 and, at the mere thought of what lies in store for us, I 
 feel that I want to press you to me till our hearts 
 burst. . . For all that we may say that our love will 
 remain unchanged through the years that will divide 
 us, and the forests and seas that will stretch between, 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 71 
 
 this poor life of ours is too full of moments when the 
 tenderest recollection yields before the absence that 
 lasts too long. , . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 T know it, Meleander. I know full well that the 
 knowledge of their love can but poorly console the 
 lovers to whom sight of each other is denied. . . 
 Here, we might be happy ; there, unhappiness does 
 most assuredly await us. . . And none the less do 
 we both feel that the thing that I am doing is the 
 thing that should be done. . . It will be long 
 before your tears cease to flow ; with me, sorrow will 
 always abide, for know as we may that the thing we 
 do is beautiful, our eyes will none the less be full of 
 tears. . . And yet, were you able to pronounce a 
 word that would keep me here, though all else re- 
 mained unchanged — you would not say that word. . . 
 Needs must those who love that for which others 
 care not, have sorrows that others cannot conceive. 
 There is no reward, my poor Meleander, but we look 
 for no reward. . . 
 
 [They go out. 
 
72 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 SCENE III.— At the foot of a tower. 
 
 Enter Aglavaine and Meleandeb. 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 "Twas not a moment ago that I saw her. She was 
 at the top of the tower, surrounded by screaming sea- 
 gulls. For the last two or three days she has spent 
 most of her time up there. And I know not what 
 strange shadow it throws across my soul at times. 
 She seems to be less unhappy, but at the same time 
 more troubled in her mind, and it is as though some 
 plan were being prepared in that profound little 
 heart of hers. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 '* She seems to be smiling at her former life — at the 
 Selysette of old. . . Have you not noticed that 
 there is always a song on her lips ? And she is be- 
 coming more and more beautiful. . . A mysterious 
 light seems to shine upon her as she walks before 
 us. . . It would be better not to speak of your 
 departure till she is calmer ; better to wait till all 
 that is now transforming her has taken deeper root 
 in her soul. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 73 
 
 Aglavaine, 
 No ; I shall tell her to-day. . . 
 
 Meleander, 
 
 But how will you tell her, this child who has drawn 
 so close to us, and who, for all her tears, lives but in 
 you? Do you not shrink from inflicting so much 
 sorrow upon her ? — for to see you go must infallibly 
 grieve her, even as it would grieve you were a nobler 
 woman than yourself to sacrifice her destiny for a 
 destiny of poorer worth. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 We have no right to weigh the destiny of others, 
 Meleander. . . And besides, were I to remain here 
 she would be more beautiful than I, and as my beauty 
 waned so would your love wane ; wherefore I prefer 
 to be far away, with my beauty undimmed, rather 
 than become less beautiful in your arms. . . And as 
 to what should be said to her, I have thought that 
 over too, and at first I thought it would be well to 
 conceal the truth, so that she should suffer less. . . 
 Do not smile, Meleander. . . There is so little of the 
 ordinary woman in me that you may wellbe surprised 
 to find that I am like other women in this — that in the 
 
74 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 depths of my heart I,, too, possess their feeble, tortuous 
 wisdom — and that, when love commands it, false- 
 hood comes to me as readily as to my sisters. . . So I 
 had made up my mind to tell her that I no longer 
 loved you, that I had deceived myself, that your love for 
 me was dead too, and countless other little things that 
 would have lessened me in her eyes, and thus lessened 
 her grief, too. But in truth, when those great pure 
 eyes of hers confronted me, I felt that it was not 
 possible, for that it was not beautiful. . . And is it not 
 better that one's tears should be called forth by some 
 noble deed than that we should owe our happiness 
 to something that tarnishes the soul ? . . . Listen. , . 
 I hear her; she is coming down the tower-stairs, 
 singing. . . Leave us, Meleander; I must speak to 
 her alone, for she says things to me that she cannot 
 Y@$ say to you ; and besides, it is only when two 
 people are alone together that truth descends from its 
 very fairest heaven. . . 
 
 [Meleander goes. A silence ; then the voice of 
 
 Selysette is heard as it gradually comes 
 
 nearer.'] 
 
 The voice of Selysette. 
 
 When forth her love went 
 (I heard the door close) 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 75 
 
 When forth her love went, 
 She smiled. . . 
 
 When back he did fare 
 (I heard the lamp burn) 
 When back he did fare 
 Another was there. . . 
 
 And I could see Death 
 
 (I heard her soul moan) 
 
 And I could see Death 
 
 That still watches her breath. . . 
 
 Selysette comes in. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Oh, Selysette, how bright your eyes are this 
 
 morning 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 It is because a beautiful thought has come to me, 
 Aglavaine. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Tell it to me ; we must never keep back a beautiful 
 thought, for all the world is the happier for it. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 I cannot tell it to you yet, Aglavaine. . . 
 
>6 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Tell it to me none the less ; I may be able to help 
 you. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 That it is that distresses me, Aglavaine. I feel that 
 I want to tell some one, because I myself do not 
 know. . . but were I to put this thought of mine 
 into words, it would no longer be beautiful. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 How can that be, Selysette ? It seems to me that 
 a beautiful thought becomes more beautiful still when 
 others admire it. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Ah, there it is, Aglavaine ! . . . Little Selysette 
 has her secret too, and a secret it must remain ! . . . 
 But what would you have done had you been Selysette 
 — what would you have done if another Aglavaine, 
 even more beautiful than you are, had appeared one 
 fine day and thrown her arms around Meleander ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I think I should have tried to be happy — to feel 
 that more light had flown into the house, and I should 
 have tried to love her even as you love me, Selysette. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 77 
 
 Selysette. 
 You would not have been jealous ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 I cannot tell, Selysette ... in the depths of my 
 heart, perhaps . . . for one moment . . . but I 
 should have recognised that it was unworthy, and I 
 should have tried to be happy. . , 
 
 Selysette. 
 I am on the eve of happiness, Aglavaine. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Not for one single instant shall you ever be 
 unhappy again. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 I should be perfectly happy if I were only sure that 
 this idea of mine was good. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Must it not be good, seeing that it makes you 
 happy? ■ . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 It is so difficult to tell, Aglavaine, and I am quite 
 alone. . . 
 
78 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTB 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Then why not tell me ? Surely I could help you. . . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 
 Yes, yes, you would help me . . . but I want you 
 to help me without knowing. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 So there is something you mean to hide from me, 
 Selysette? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Yes, but only till it has become very beautiful. . , 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 When will it be very beautiful ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 When I know . . . when I know. . . Little 
 Selysette can be beautiful too . . . you will see, you 
 will see. . . Oh you will love me much more, both 
 of you. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Is it possible to love you more than we do, 
 Selysette? . . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTB 79 
 
 Seltsette. 
 I would so dearly like to know what you would do, 
 if you were I ! 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I should be only too glad to tell you, Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 If I were to tell you it would no longer be the 
 same, and truth would be impossible to you. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Do I not speak the truth ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Yes, I know ; but here you could not. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 You are strange to-day, Selysette ; be careful, for 
 it may be that you are wrong. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 No, no; let me kiss you, Aglavaine . . . every 
 kiss will whisper to me that I am not wrong. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 There is a strange brightness in your eyes, my 
 little Selysette ... as though your soul were over- 
 flowing within you. . . 
 
8o AGLAVAINE AND SELYSBTTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 And your eyes are brighter to-day, too, though you 
 try to hide them. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 I also have something to say to you, Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Oh what is it, Aglavaine ? . . . you look as though 
 you were afraid, as well as I . . . Can it be the same 
 
 thing? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 What thing, Selysette ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Nothing, nothing ... I was speaking idly . . . 
 tell me what it is, quickly. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 I am afraid it may distress you, Selysette, though 
 it ought to bring happiness to you. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Never again will my tears fall, Aglavaine. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 [Seizing her arm.] What does this mean, Selysette ? 
 You said that so strangely. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 81 
 
 Seltsette. 
 
 No, no ... I shall not cry any more, that is all ; 
 is that not as it should be ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Let me look into your eyes. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Look, look . . . tell me what you see. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 For all that we say that the soul shows itself in 
 our eyes, it seems to vanish as we gaze into them. . . 
 And as I stand, with the fears I dare not speak of 
 upon me, before the limpid waters of your eyes, it is 
 they that seem to question me, and to murmur 
 timidly : " "What dost thou read ? " in lieu of answer- 
 ing the question I cannot frame. . . 
 
 \A silence. 
 
 Aglavaine ? 
 Selysette? . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 What was it you were going to tell me ? . . . 
 
 p 
 
82 AGLAVAINE AND SBLYSETTE 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Come to my arms, my little Selysette ! Alas ! 
 but a little more and I had taken from you all you 
 had in the world. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 You are sad, Aglavaine ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 No, I am not sad, for you shall be happy. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Let me wipe away those heavy tears. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Let them not trouble you, Selysette ; and if you 
 weep, too, your eyes must be dried before mine. . . 
 Let us seat ourselves here, upon the threshold of your 
 tower, so that your lips may be closer to mine, even 
 as they were that evening when we spoke to each 
 other for the first time ... do you remember that 
 evening by the reservoir ? More than a month ago, 
 my poor Selysette ; many things have died since 
 then, many sprung to life, and a little more 
 light has come unto the soul. Give me your lips, 
 Selysette ; let us kiss each other as fervently as two 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 83 
 
 human beings can. . . Not many more moments 
 such as this will be vouchsafed to us, for to-morrow 
 I wend my way from amongst you, and everything 
 that we do for the last time of all seems so grave and 
 solemn to these poor hearts of ours. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 You mean to go to-morrow ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Yes, to-morrow, Selysette : it was that I wanted to 
 tell you. At first I thought it would be best to 
 keep back the truth, so that the sorrow should not 
 come upon you all at once . . . but you are so 
 beautiful in my eyes, and my love for you is so lofty 
 that my heart fails me — why should I shield you 
 from a sorrow that can but draw us the closer ? . . . 
 And besides, when people have been trying — as we 
 three have been trying this past month — to shape 
 their lives in some accord with the truth and 
 beauty of the soul, the atmosphere changes and the 
 thing that is not true can no longer be said. . . 
 When I thought of you, I felt at once that it could 
 not be. . . And therefore have I come to tell you 
 that to-morrow I shall go from here in order that 
 you may be happy, and I tell it you in all simplicity, 
 
84 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 content that you should know how my departure 
 saddens me, content even that you should share in 
 the sacrifice ; for we are all three making this 
 sacrifice, and making it for something that, nameless 
 though it he, is yet far stronger than we. . . But is it 
 not strange, Selysette ? I love you, I love Meleander ; 
 Meleander loves us both, you love Meleander and 
 myself, and for all that we cannot live happily 
 together, because the hour has not yet come when 
 mankind can be thus united. . . And I go away 
 beseeching you to accept my departure in the spirit 
 in which it is offered. . . And accepting it thus, 
 my poor Selysette, your sacrifice will perhaps be 
 greater than mine, while your action will be no less 
 beautiful ; and indeed far happier the one who makes 
 the sacrifice than the one for whom it is made. 
 I love you, Selysette, and I want to clasp you in my 
 arms, as near to my heart as may be. . . Does it 
 not seem to you, as we stand thus with our arms 
 about each other, with the simple truth of the soul 
 upon us, does it not seem to you that something that 
 is stronger than ourselves is urging us on ? . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Do not go to-morrow, Aglavaine. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 85 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Why not to-morrow, since go I must ? . . . 
 Seltsette. 
 
 I ask you not to go before I tell what I have to 
 
 tell. . , 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Will you tell me soon ? 
 
 Seltsette. 
 
 Yes, for now I am sure. . . And what you have 
 just now told me, does Meleander know ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Yes. 
 
 Seltsette. 
 
 I am no longer sad, Aglavaine. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 What would you have done, Selysette, if I had 
 gone away without telling you ? 
 
 Seltsette. 
 I should have followed you and brought you back, 
 
 Aglavaine. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 And if you had not found me ? 
 
86 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 I should have spent my life seeking you. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Sty fear is lest you should go before I do, Selysette 
 — I am wondering whether that can be the idea you 
 spoke of. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 No, for there would be sorrow in that, and my idea 
 now is full of gladness ... I had thought, I too, of 
 going away without saying a word, but now. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Now you will not go ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 No, no, Aglavaine mine; I shall not leave the 
 castle. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 You promise me that, from the depths of your 
 soul? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 From the depths of my soul, and by my eternal 
 happiness, Aglavaine. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSBTTE 87 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 It had been better, perhaps, that I had never 
 come. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 In that case I had never been happy or unhappy, 
 for I was nothing. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Perhaps it is not well to awaken those who 
 slumber, above all when their sleep be innocent and 
 sweet. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Needs must it be well, Aglavaine, for they never 
 wish to sleep again. . . "When I think of the time 
 when my eyes were closed, I would fain hide myself 
 for shame. . . When I used to kiss Meleander I 
 was only a little blind girl who did not know. . . but 
 was it altogether my fault that I counted for so little? 
 . . . Whereas now ... I looked at him to-night as 
 he lay asleep . . . and then ... I can tell you, 
 Aglavaine? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 [Embracing her,] Selysette, my little Selysette. . . 
 
88 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTB 
 
 Selysette. 
 And then I kissed him, but he did not awake. . . 
 And I could see the stars in the blue of the 
 windows ; and I felt as though all those stars had 
 come to me to build a heaven in my soul. . . Oh 
 my poor Aglavaine, you will never know — for you 
 always knew. . . But to be able to say,i "I love 
 you," to be able to say it with one's eyes open, to 
 the man one loves ! . . . I understand now. . . I 
 know not why I am yearning all the time to go away 
 or to die. . . I am happy, and fain would I die, so 
 as to be happier still. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 It is dangerous to think of death at moments of 
 too much happiness. . . I will make a confession to 
 you. . , For one second the fear rushed across me 
 that the idea you spoke of before. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Yes. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 That that might have been the idea. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 You need not be afraid, Aglavaine, such an idea as 
 that could only come to quite a little girl. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 89 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Yes, it would be the idea of a blind little heart, to 
 whom death might seem to be the one proof of love. 
 . . . Whereas, on the contrary, those who love must 
 live ; and the more we love, the more must we care 
 to live. . . But apart from that, I knew that your 
 love for us was far above that kind of love. . . And 
 surely it is only some one who longs to plunge two 
 fellow creatures into despair who could devise any- 
 thing so terribly cruel as to place an innocent death 
 between them. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Shall I make a confession too, Aglavaine ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Tell me everything, even as I have told you 
 everything, my little Selysette. It is sweet to feel 
 that there is nothing between us, not even a flower 
 wherein could hide a thought not shared by both. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 I had thought of it for an instant. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Of death? 
 
9o AGLAVAINB AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Yes, long ago. . . But I at once told myself all 
 you have just told me ; and then something eke 
 occurred to me. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 And that is ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Oh something quite different, and it is on the side 
 of life. . . But the time for telling is not yet. 
 . . . You shall see. . . I kiss you, Aglavaine. . . 
 I feel I know not what ... it is as though my soul 
 — was it you who said it? . .as though my soul 
 were overflowing within me. . . And now I know 
 at last what you would do if you were I. . . 
 
 [They go out with their arms about each other. 
 
ACT FOURTH 
 Scene I. — A terrace overlooking the sea. 
 
 Aglavaine and Selysette enter and meet each other. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 The sun is rising over the sea, Selysette ; and the 
 waves are full of joy in their tranquillity. The 
 fragrance and limpid silence of the dawn make one 
 feel as though one were alone in the world, and there 
 is something of the dawn in every word one says ; is 
 it not so ? . . . This day will be beautiful among 
 all days, Selysette; is it to be the day of my 
 departure ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 No, no ; you shall not go. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 How beautiful you are, Selysette — you become 
 more and more beautiful with every rising dawn. . . 
 
92 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Will you not tell me what it is that has thus trans- 
 figured you, so that I may share in it before I wend 
 my way from here ? ... Is it that your soul is 
 revelling in its innocence, or have you prayed to a 
 God whom I know not— or do you perhaps love as 
 you never yet have loved ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Yes, I think it is that my love is greater, Agla- 
 vaine. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I came to meet you because I saw you just now 
 from the window of my room. I was frightened, 
 Selysette. . . You were leaning over, nearly all 
 your body was leaning over the crumbling old wall at 
 the top of the tower. I imagined for a moment 
 that the stones were giving way. I turned pale, 
 pale — there was a chill at my heart that I had never 
 known before. I felt my life trembling on my 
 lips. It is the first time that I have had the 
 very taste of life in my mouth — or was it the taste of 
 death ? . . . I opened the window and screamed so as 
 to warn you ; but you did not understand. . . . 
 Destiny is capricious — you do wrong to tempt it thus. 
 What were you doing up there ? This is the third 
 time I have seen you on the tower. . . Your hands 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 93 
 
 seemed to be pulling at the stones. . . What were 
 you doing, Selysette? You seemed to be seeking 
 something in space. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Yes, T was seeking something. . . Have they not 
 told you ? . . . But first of all do not be frightened 
 about me, there is no cause. . . My old tower is 
 stronger than they think ; it will outlive us all. Why 
 give it a bad name ? It has done no one any harm, 
 so far ; and the stones are immovable ; I know that 
 better than any one. . . But have you not seen it ? 
 Here is something taking place so close to you, 
 and you know nothing of it ! . . . Five or six days 
 ago a strange bird came to us, and it flies round and 
 round my tower, and never seems to tire. . . Its 
 wings are green — a strange, pale green, inconceivably 
 strange and pale. . . And there is something else 
 that is inconceivable, too ; it seems to grow day by 
 day. . . None have been able to tell me from what 
 country it has come. . . I think it must have made 
 its nest in a crevice in the wall ; it was there that you 
 saw me bending over. . . 
 
 Aglavaikte. 
 Is that the key of the tower, that great golden key 
 with which you are playing ? . . . 
 
94 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 Yes; you remember I let it fall the day you 
 arrived. . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Will you give it to me ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Give it to you ? . . . Why ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 I would like to keep it by me till I go. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 But why, Aglavaine ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I scarcely know. . . Wait till I am far away 
 before you go up there again, Selysette, and leave the 
 bird with the green wings alone. . . I had a bad 
 dream, and the bird appeared in my dream. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Here is the key, Aglavaine. . . I don't mind 
 giving it to you. . . It is heavy. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Yes, it is very heavy, Selysette. 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 95 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Kiss me, Aglavaine. . . Have I made you un- 
 happy? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 You have never yet made any one unhappy. . . 
 Your eyes are filled with tears. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I was looking at the sun, as I kissed you. , , 
 Kiss me again. . . I am going to Meleander, he 
 told me he would rise betimes. . . Good-bye, 
 Aglavaine. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 [Slowly.] Good-bye, Selysette. . . . 
 
 [Selysette goes. Aglavaine waits till she 
 is far away, then, going to the end of the 
 terrace, she looks for an instant at the 
 golden key and, with a sudden movement, 
 flings it far away into the sea. Then she 
 goes too. 
 
96 AGLAVAINB AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Scene II. — A room in the castle. 
 
 Meligrane is asleep at the back. Enter Selysette 
 holding little Yssaline by the hand. 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Let us kiss grandam first of all ; for who will kiss 
 her when we are gone '( And yet does she need our 
 kisses as much as others do . . . But say nothing 
 to her. . . Aglavaine took away the key of my 
 tower, because she was afraid. But I have found 
 the other key, the one we thought was lost. And 
 so we can go up without any one knowing, and I 
 will capture the green bird. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 Will you give it to me at once ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 I will give it to you if you say nothing. But 
 be careful. I am going to awaken grandam. . . 
 Do I look unhappy, Yssaline ? . . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 
 Is there anything I can say that would make you 
 happy, little sister ? 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 97 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 You must tell me the truth. . . Grandam must 
 not imagine that I am unhappy. You see, often 
 when one is very happy people make mistakes and 
 believe one has been crying. . . You cannot see that 
 I have been crying ? 
 
 YSSALINE. 
 
 Let me look at you carefully, little sister. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Can you see anything ? 
 
 YSSALINE. 
 
 You must come nearer to me, little sister. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I will take you in my arms and kiss you. . . You 
 see nothing ? . . 
 
 YSSALINE. 
 
 One never quite knows when you are crying, little 
 sister ; you do it so softly. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 But I have not been crying at all. It must be 
 a cinder or something that cannot be seen. . . And 
 remember, if they ask you to-day, when you are 
 
 G 
 
98 AGLAVAINB AND SELYSETTE 
 
 alone, "What did she say, what did she do, was she 
 pale, or sad ? " you must not answer all at once if you 
 see that they are frightened, or if those ahout you 
 are too pale. . . But you must tell them that I 
 seemed to be happy, and indeed every one can see that 
 I do nothing but smile, that I am smiling all the 
 time ; and we must always tell the truth. Now, be 
 careful, for I am going to grandam. . . Ah ! how 
 forsaken she looks ! . . . [She imprints a long hiss 
 upon Meligranb's lips.] Grandam. . . [Meligeane 
 does not awake.] It is I, grandam. . . How heavily 
 she sleeps. . . Grandam, I am come to bid you 
 good-bye. . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 [Awaking.] Ah ! it is you, Selysette ? . . . 
 Selysette. 
 
 Yes, grandam, Yssaline and I have come to kiss 
 you, for we are going for a walk to-day. . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 Whither are you going 1 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I know not yet, but we mean to go a little further 
 than usual. . . We shall not be back before even- 
 ing. Have you all you need, grandam ? Aglavaine 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 99 
 
 will come and take care of you in my stead. Shall 
 I arrange the cushions before I go ? I am the only 
 one who knows how to lift you up without hurting 
 you. But Aglavaine will learn. She is so good that 
 she will know at once if you will only let her. . . 
 Shall I call her? . . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 No, no ; I shall sleep till you return. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Good-bye, grandam, good-bye. . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 Good-bye, Selysette; come back before the 
 night. . . 
 
 [Selysette goes quickly, holding Utile Yssaline 
 by the hand. 
 
 Scene III. — A corridor in the castle. 
 
 Meleander meets Selysette, who is holding Kttle 
 Yssaline by the hand. 
 
 Meleandeb. 
 Whither are you going so hurriedly, Selysette ? 
 
ioo AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Nowhere, Meleander. . . "We are seeking shelter 
 from the sun. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 In very truth this is a day when the stones seem 
 to melt in the walls, and the sea to have turned into a 
 fiery lake. The eternal freshness of the forest ia 
 nothing but the heated breath of a funeral pile ; and 
 the sun looks like a raging lion about to swallow up 
 the sky. . . Kiss me, Selysette, for if there linger 
 yet any fragrance of the dawn it is surely to be found 
 on your lips. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 No ; I have no time ; they are waiting for me — 
 you shall kiss me this evening. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 What is the matter, Selysette ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Ah ! it is such a little thing and over so 
 soon ! . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 What do you say ? 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 101 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Nothing, nothing. . . Kiss me quickly. . . 
 
 [She kisses him violently. 
 
 Meleandee. 
 Ah ! . . . my lip is bleeding. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 What? 
 
 Meleandee. 
 
 A drop of blood. . . Those beautiful little teeth of 
 yours have wounded me, Selysette, . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Oh, I am a little ... a little wolf. . . Have I 
 hurt you, Meleander ? . . . 
 
 Meleandee. 
 Not in the least ... it is nothing. . . See, it has 
 already left off. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Oh, I am a little ... a little wolf. . . What 
 time is it ? 
 
 Meleander. 
 Close on noon. 
 
102 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 Noon ? Oh, I must hurry . . . they are waiting, 
 waiting, . , r Good-bye, my Meleander. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 Selysette, Selysette, whither are you going ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 [Singing as she hastens away with Utth 
 
 Yssaline. 
 When forth her love went 
 (I heard the door close) 
 When forth her love went 
 She smiled. . . 
 [Meleandek stands looking after her : then 
 goes out. 
 
 Scene IV. — At the top of the tower. 
 Enter Selysette and little Yssaline. 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Here we are, Yssaline, in the turret of the tower, 
 and now we must know what we have to do. . . Oh 
 the brightness there is this morning over earth and 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 103 
 
 sea and sky ! Why is this day so much more beautiful 
 than other days ? . . . 
 
 YSSALINE. 
 
 Where is the green bird ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 He is there, but we cannot see him yet. . . In a 
 minute or two we will lean over the wall, but let us 
 look around us first. One can see the castle and 
 the courtyards, the woods and the gardens. All 
 the flowers have opened on the water-banks. . . 
 How green the grass is this morning ! . . . I cannot 
 see Aglavaine. . . Oh look, there is Meleander. . . 
 He is waiting for her. . ■ Bend down, we must 
 hide; he must not know we are here. He is close 
 to the reservoir, it was there that I awakened 
 Aglavaine. . . 
 
 YSSALINE. 
 
 Little sister, little sister, look out here. . . I 
 can see the gardener planting flowers round the 
 house. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 You will see them grow and you will see them open, 
 Yssaline, and you will pluck them for me. . . Come, 
 
104 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 come, it is more than I can bear. . . Let us look 
 from here ; here there is only the sea, which is far 
 away. . . [They go to the other side of the tower.] 
 How beautiful the sea is too ! ... In not a single 
 corner is sorrow to be found to-day. . . The sea is 
 so green, so deep, so beautiful, that one's courage 
 goes. . , And for all this, my little Yssaline, it will 
 go on smiling just the same until nightfall. . . Look 
 at the little waves on the beach. . . I cannot, I tell 
 you, I cannot ! . . . The flowers and the sea will not 
 let me. . . I shall never be able to do it in the 
 daytime. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 
 Oh, here are the gulls, little sister, the gulls are 
 coming ! Oh how many there are ! . . . how many ! 
 There must be two thousand ! . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 They have all flown here together from the far end 
 of the sea. . . They look as though they were 
 bringing us news. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 No, no ; it is fish they are bringing, little sister. . . 
 And their young ones are screaming, too, from then- 
 holes in the wall. . . Their beaks are bigger than 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 105 
 
 themselves. . . Look, look do you see that great 
 
 gull with the eel ? . . . Don't you see ? . . . There, 
 
 there. . . They have eaten it already. . . And the 
 
 others are over there too. . . The big ones are eating 
 
 nothing. . . There again, did you see ? . . . She 
 
 kept nothing for herself. . . Is she the mother, 
 
 little sister ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 What did I say to grandam, Yssaline ? 
 
 Yssaline. 
 Why are you crying, little sister ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I am not crying, Yssaline — I am thinking, thinking. 
 Did I kiss her before I went away ? . . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 Yes, you kissed her as you said good-bye. 
 
 Selysette. 
 How often did I kiss her? 
 
 Yssaline. 
 Once, little sister, we had no time. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 I fear I was not gentle enough. . . 
 
106 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 YSSALINE. 
 
 We were in a great hurry, little sister. . . 
 Selysette. 
 
 No, no; it must not be. . . She will be quite 
 alone, Yssaline, and this will ever linger in her mind. 
 You see, if you have not been gentler than usual 
 when you go away, they believe that you no longer 
 love them. . . "Whereas it is the contrary that they 
 should believe ; it is just when our love is too great that 
 we are afraid to be gentle. . . Though perhaps we are 
 wrong ; for whatever they do, and were they to live a 
 thousand years, it is only the last word we said to 
 them that they can remember. . . I saw that myself 
 when my mother went. . . At the last moment of 
 all she did not smile at me, and it comes back to me 
 again and again that she did not smile. . . And the 
 rest of life scarcely seems to count. . . And besides, 
 what did I say of Aglavaine ? . . . I don't remember. 
 I must see grandam again. . . The others, it is 
 for them ; they must not know. . . But she is quite 
 alone ; and it is not for her sake that I climb 
 into the tower, not for her sake that I shall go down 
 therefrom . . . you must see that it is impossible. . . 
 Come, come, we will go and kiss her very tenderly. . , 
 
 [They go out. 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 107 
 
 Scene V. — A room in the castle. 
 
 Meligrane is asleep. Selysette and little Yssaline 
 come in. 
 
 Selysette. 
 [Waking Meligrane.] Grandam. . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 You are back at last, Selysette. . . I have long 
 been waiting for you. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Forgive me, grandam, I fear I was not as gentle 
 as I should have been when I bade you good-bye. . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 Oh but you were, Selysette, you were very gentle. 
 What is the matter? There is something on your 
 mind. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 There is nothing on my mind, grandam. It is only 
 that I feel I must tell you how I love you. . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 I know you do, my Selysette. Many times have you 
 
io8 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 given me proofs of your love; and I have never 
 doubted it. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Yes, grandam, I know . . . but I myself have 
 never known till now. . . 
 
 Melighane. 
 
 Come nearer to me, my child — you know that I can 
 no longer embrace those I love, now that these poor 
 arms of mine have ceased to do my bidding. . . Put 
 your arms around me again as I cannot put mine 
 around you. . . You seem strange to-day, Selysette. 
 And so it is only now that you know you love 
 me? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Oh no ; I knew it, I knew it, but sometimes one 
 knows a thing so long without knowing. . . And 
 then, one day, we feel we have not been kind enough, 
 that we might have done more, that we have not loved 
 as we should have loved. And we want to begin 
 again before it be too late. I have neither father 
 nor mother, grandam, and had you not been there, I 
 had forgotten what a mother might mean. . . . But 
 you never forsook little Selysette, and it was a great 
 joy to know there was some one to go to when I 
 was unhappy. . . 
 
ACLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 109 
 
 Meligkane. 
 
 No, no, Selysette mine, it was you who did not 
 abandon me. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 No, no, grandam. . . I know full well that it is 
 you who stayed on for my sake. . . 
 
 Meligkane. 
 
 You are strangely serious this afternoon, Selysette, 
 and for all that you do not seem to be sad. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I have always been very happy, grandam, and now 
 I know where happiness lies . . . 
 
 Meligkane. 
 
 You do not mean that it has gone from you, 
 Selysette? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Far from that, I believe I have found it, grandam 
 . . . And tell me, have you been happy ? 
 
 Meligkane. 
 When, Selysette ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 In the time that is gone, grandam. . . 
 
no AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Meligeane. 
 Of what time do you speak, my child ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 The time when life was. . . 
 
 Meligeane. 
 There have come to me days of sorrow even as they 
 come to all that live on this earth, but I may truly 
 claim to have been happy, seeing that you have never 
 quitted this house. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Not on that should your happiness depend, 
 grandam. . . "Would you never be glad again if I 
 were no longer here ? . . . 
 
 Meligeane. 
 When I am there no longer happiness may still 
 come to you, my child, for though I be gone, much 
 will still remain to you. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 If you were to lose me you would still have Agla- 
 vaine, grandam. . . 
 
 Meligeane. 
 I have never lulled her to sleep on my knee, 
 
 Selysette. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE in 
 
 Selysette. 
 And none the less must you love her, grandam. . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 You love her, and therefore do I love her, my 
 child. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 And most of all should you love her, because it was 
 she who brought happiness to me. . . She is so 
 beautiful, she is so beautiful that ever since my heart 
 has known of her, I have lived by her side with my 
 eyes full of tears. . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 How your hands burn to-day, Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 It is because my happiness is too great, 
 grandam. . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 I love you, Selysette mine. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Have I ever been the cause of sorrow to you, 
 grandam ? 
 
ii2 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Meligrane. 
 I cannot remember, my child. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Yes, yes, you must needs remember ... for we 
 bring sorrow to all those we love. . . But tell me, 
 I beg of you, when it was that I caused you the most 
 sorrow. . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 It was only when you shed tears that you saddened 
 me ; and then it was not your fault. . -. I remember 
 nothing else. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Never again will you see me shed tears, 
 grandam. . . . 
 
 Meligeaue. 
 
 Look you, Selysette, happiness is a pendulum that 
 swings to and fro between men, and our tears must 
 be kept back as long as we can. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 You are right, grandam ; and when happiness shall 
 have returned to you — to them and to you, grandam 
 mine, do you gather them about you one evening and 
 tell them the story of a poor little girl. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 113 
 
 Meligrane. 
 What are you saying, Selysette ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Nothing, nothing. . . I was thinking of the days 
 when I was a little child. . . 
 
 Meligbane. 
 
 So do I often think of those days, Selysette. I 
 was not ill, then, and I was able to carry you in my 
 arms or run after you. . . . You wandered to and fro 
 and your laughter rang through the house, then 
 suddenly you would fling open the door and shriek, 
 in terror : " She is coming, she is coming, she is here ! " 
 And no one knew whom you meant, or what it was 
 that frightened you ; you did not know yourself ; but 
 I would pretend to be frightened too and would go 
 through the long corridors with you till we reached 
 the garden. And it all went for very little and 
 served no purpose, my child ; but we understood each 
 other, you and I, and smiled at each other, night and 
 morning. . . And thus, thanks to you, have I been 
 a mother a second time, long after my beauty had left 
 me ; and some day you will know that women never 
 weary of motherhood, that they would cherish death 
 itself, did it fall asleep on their knee. . . But little 
 
 H 
 
U4 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 by little all passes away, Selysette, and the very 
 smallest soon cease to be small. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 . I know it, grandam, and sorrow passes away, too, 
 passes away and disappears. . . But beauty remains 
 and others are happy. . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 Who told you that, my child ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 All that have I learned from Aglavaine, 
 grandam. . . 
 
 Meliorate. 
 
 How your eyes sparkle to-day, Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 [Stifling a sob.~\ It is because I love all the world, 
 grandam. . . 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 I believe you are crying, my child ? . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Oh no, I am not crying ; and if one or two tears 
 are falling, they are only tears of joy. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 115 
 
 Meligbane. 
 
 Put your arms around me, Selysette — closer, closer, 
 and stay with me. . . 
 
 YSSALINE. 
 
 Little sister, I want to be kissed too. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 [Gently moving Yssaline away.] No, no, Yssaline, she 
 shall have all my kisses to-day. . . The day will soon 
 come when it will be your turn to have all the kisses. 
 . . . farewell, grandam, farewell. . . 
 
 Meligbane. 
 
 Selysette ! . . . what is the matter ? . . . where 
 are you going ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Farewell, grandam, farewell. . . 
 Meligrahe. 
 
 Selysette, stay here. . . I won't have it. . . You 
 shall not go. . . [She struggles in vain to rise and 
 stretch out her arms.] I cannot, I cannot, . . You 
 see that I cannot, Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I, too, cannot, grandam . . « farewell, grandam 
 
n6 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 mine . . . sleep in peace to-night and let no bad 
 dreams come to you . . . farewell, farewell. . . 
 
 [She goes out quickly holding little Yssaline by 
 the hand. 
 
 Meligrane. 
 
 Selysette ! . . . Selysette ! . . . 
 
 [She is heard sobbing softly to herself as the 
 light grows fainter and fainter. 
 
 Scene VI. — A Corridor in the Castle. 
 
 [Enter Selysette holding little Yssaline by the 
 hand. She sees Aglavaine coming to meet 
 her, and hides with little Yssaline behind 
 one of the pillars which support the roof. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 [Drawing near.] Is it you, Selysette ? Why are you 
 hiding ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I scarcely know, Aglavaine. . . I thought you 
 would like to be alone. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Whither were you going, Selysette ? . . . And here 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 117 
 
 is little Yssaline looking at me from the corners of 
 her eyes. . . Is there a plot between you ? 
 
 Seltsette. 
 I have made a promise that I needs must keep. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Whither were you dragging Selysette, Yssaline? 
 [Yssaline does not answer.] You won't tell me ? And 
 if I were to kiss you till you told me ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Oh, she knows how to keep a secret quite as well as 
 though she were grown up. . , 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I know not whether it be because of the evening 
 light, but you look very pale, Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I want to kiss you, Aglavaine. . . 
 
 [They exchange a long kiss. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Oh, your lips are soft and sweet to-night, Sely- 
 sette. . . 
 
n8 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Yours too, Aglavaine. . . I am very happy. . 
 There is strength on your lips. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 A light shines from you as from a lamp, Sely- 
 sette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 You have not seen grandam ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 No. Shall I go to her? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 No, no; there is no need; she is asleep. . . You 
 were looking for Meleander ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Yes. And you, Selysette ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 When you see him, kiss him for me. . . I am 
 glad to think that it is you who will kiss him when I 
 am not there. . . I love you so much that I should 
 be jealous were there no one he could take in his 
 arms. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 119 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 It is you who are becoming the more beautiful, 
 Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Oh, that is so easy when one knows. . . But look 
 how impatient Yssaline is and how she is pulling my 
 hand. . . Good-bye, Aglavaine mine ; you will see 
 me soon. . . 
 
 [She goes with little Yssaline, and sings as she 
 moves along. 
 When back he did fare 
 (I heard the lamp burn) 
 "When back he did fare 
 Another was there . . . 
 And I could see. . . Ah ! Ah ! . . . 
 [The song ceases suddenly and Aglavaine goes 
 out. 
 
 Scene VII. — At the top of the Tower. 
 Enter Selysette and little Yssaline. 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 And now the hour has come, my little Yssaline. I 
 shall not go down to them again ; I shall not smile 
 
120 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 tenderly at them again. . . How cold it is in the 
 tower ; the wind comes from the north. See the light 
 that it throws on the waves. . . The flowers are 
 hidden from sight, the voice of mankind is still, and 
 sadness hangs over all. . . How different from this 
 morning. . . 
 
 YSSALINE. 
 
 And where is the bird, little sister ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Let us wait till the sun has sunk into the very 
 depths of the sea, till the light lies dead on the horizon, 
 for the bird is afraid of the light, and never yet has 
 he looked at the sun. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 
 And if there should be any stars, little sister ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 And if there should be any stars ? . . . [Looking at 
 the sky.] There are no stars yet, but they are all 
 waiting, eager to peer through the sky ; and we must 
 hasten, for it will be still more terrible when they are 
 there. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 
 I am very cold, little sister. . . 
 
AGLAVA1NE AND SELYSETTE 121 
 
 Selysette. 
 Let us sit here ; the wall will keep the wind from 
 us, and we will wait till the last gleam of crimson shall 
 have died away in the sea. . . How slowly the sun 
 is sinking. . . When it is gone I will look for the 
 bird. . . Let me wrap my white shawl about you ; I 
 shall want it no more. . . 
 
 YSSALINE. 
 
 "Why are you holding me so close to you, little 
 
 sister? . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Because my happiness is too much for me, Yssaline ; 
 never have I been happier than I am to-day. . . 
 But look well at me. . . Am I not more beautiful 
 than I used to be ? . . . I am smiling, I am sure I am 
 smiling. . . Why do you not smile at me ? . . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 You are speaking so quickly, little sister. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Am I speaking quickly? ... I have no time to 
 lose. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 
 And besides, you are tearing up all my flowers. . , 
 
122 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 What flowers ? Oh, these ! . . . I was forgetting 
 that they were yours. . . 
 
 YSSALME. 
 
 I will not have you cry, little sister. . . 
 Selysette, 
 
 But I am not crying, my little Tssaline. . . That 
 is the very last thing of all that any one must believe. 
 ... I am smiling so much that I seem to be cry- 
 ing. . . 
 
 YSSALINE. 
 
 Then why do your eyes seem to be crying ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 How can I tell what my eyes choose to do ? . . . 
 But remember this well : if you tell any one that I 
 seemed to be sad, you will be punished for a long, 
 long time. . , 
 
 Yssaline. 
 Why? 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 For reasons that will some day be revealed to you. 
 And you must not ask me so many questions; you 
 are only a little creature who cannot yet under- 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 123 
 
 stand the things that are clear to others. I did not 
 understand either when I was your age, nay, not 
 until very long after. . . I may do this or that ; but 
 it is not the things you see that matter the most. 
 . . Look you, my little Yssaline, I must not speak 
 of it, although I have a pressing desire to tell some 
 one, for it is so sad to be the only one who knows. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 You can hardly see the sun now, little sister. . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 
 "Wait, wait yet a little, Yssaline ; for as the sun goes 
 down, so does something else come nearer, and the 
 nearer it comes to me the more clearly do I see. . . 
 I can no longer tell whether I have acted wisely in 
 bringing you to the tower ; yet was it necessary that 
 some one should come with me, for they will want to 
 know all that took place, and they will be happy if 
 only they do not know. . . You do not understand 
 a word of what I am saying to you now, little sister 
 mine. . . Yes, but a day will come when you will 
 understand it all, when you will see all that you 
 cannot see now that your eyes are beholding it. . . 
 And then sorrow will come to you, nor will you 
 ever be able to forget what you are about to see. 
 
124 AGLAVAINB AND SELYSETTE 
 
 . . . And you had perforce to see without under- 
 standing, for otherwise how contrive that the others 
 should not understand? . . . But when you are a 
 woman you will shed many tears because of this, and 
 it may even weigh upon your life. . . And therefore 
 do I ask you to-day to pardon me, though you know 
 not why, for the suffering that will come upon you 
 some time when you know too well. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 The flocks are coming back, little sister. . . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 They will come back to-morrow too, Yssaline. 
 
 Yssaline. 
 Yes, little sister. . . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 And the birds will sing to-morrow. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 Yes, little sister. . . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 And the flowers will flower to-morrow. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 Yes, yes, little sister. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 125 
 
 Selysette. 
 Why had it to be the younger of the two ? . . . 
 
 YSSALINE. 
 
 There is only a little red line there now, little 
 sister. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 You are right; it is time. . . You yourself are 
 urging me to it; and the stars too are growing 
 impatient. . . Farewell, Yssaline mine. I am very, 
 very happy. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 
 So am I, little sister. Be quick, the stars are 
 coming. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Have no fear, Yssaline ; they will see me no more. 
 . . . Arise, sit in this corner, and let me fasten my 
 shawl around you, for the wind is very cold. . . Did 
 you really love me ? No, no ; do not answer ; I know, 
 I know. . . I am going to roll these four great 
 stones over here, so that you cannot go near the big 
 opening over which I mean to bend. . . Do not be 
 frightened if you should not see me any more. It will 
 only mean that I have had to go down the other side. 
 
126 AGLA VAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 . . . Do not wait for me ; go down the stone stair- 
 case by yourself. . . And, above all, do not try to 
 see what I have done, do not go near this wall. . . 
 You would see nothing and they would punish you. 
 ... I shall wait for you below. . . Kiss me, Yssaline, 
 and tell grandam. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 "What shall I tell her, little sister ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Nothing, nothing. ... I thought I had forgotten 
 something. . . [She goes to the crumbling wall that 
 faces the sea and leans over.] Oh, how deep and cold 
 the sea looks 1 . . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 Little sister ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 There it is ; I see it. . . Do not move. . . 
 
 Yssaline. 
 "Where is it ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Wait . . . wait. . . I must bend over a little more. 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 127 
 
 . . . Yssaline ! . . . Yssaline ! . . . The stones are 
 trembling ! . . . I am falling ! . . . Oh ! 
 
 [A side of the wall gives. The sound of a fall 
 is heard, and a low cry of pain. Then a 
 long silence. 
 
 Yssaline. 
 
 [Rising, in tears.] Little sister! . . . little sister! 
 . . . Where are you? ... I am frightened, little 
 sister ! . . . 
 
 [She btwsts out sobbing, alone in the turret. 
 
ACT FIFTH 
 SCENE I.— A Corridor in the Castle. 
 
 Enter Aglavaine and Meleander. 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 She has fallen asleep ; but the doctors are going, 
 and, pray as I might, I have not been able to draw a 
 single word of hope from them. . . She fell on to a 
 hillock of sand, that the sea- wind had swept to the foot 
 of the tower, as though to receive her more tenderly. 
 It is there that the servants found her, whilst you 
 were hoping to meet her on the road to the village. 
 There is no wound to be seen, no injury apparent 
 on her poor little body ; but a stream of blood flows 
 from her lips ; and when she opened her eyes she 
 smiled at me, but said not a word. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 But Yssaline ? What does Yssaline say ? They tell 
 me she was with her. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 129 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 I have questioned her. . . She was found at the 
 top of the tower, trembling with cold and fright. 
 . . . She repeats, over and over again, through her 
 tears, that the wall opened while Selysette was 
 leaning over so as to lay hold of a bird that was 
 passing. . . When I met her this afternoon, here in 
 the corridor — and it was on this very spot, between 
 the pillars — she seemed less sad than usual. . . 
 " She seemed less sad than usual ! " . . . Do we not 
 both stand condemned by these words ? . . . And 
 now, when I think of all she has said to us, of all she 
 has done, monstrous suspicions burst upon my soul, 
 and crush my life. . . Love is as cruel as hate. . . 
 I no longer believe, I no longer believe. . . And all 
 my sorrow turns into loathing ! . . . Curses on the 
 beauty that brings disaster with it ! . . . Curses on 
 the mind that craves for too much beauty ! . . . 
 Curses on the destiny that is blind and deaf ! . . . 
 And I curse the words that deceive and betray, and I 
 curse the life that will not give ear to life ! . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Meleander. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 What do you want of me ? . . . 
 
130 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Come with me. . . I must see her, for it is not 
 
 possible. . . . We must know. . . She cannot have 
 
 done it deliberately. She cannot, for in that 
 case. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 In that case ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 We must know. . . Come. . . No matter how. 
 . . . Her suffering must have been too great before 
 she could have done that ! . . . And I would never 
 again be able, never, never. . . 
 
 [She drags him away quickly. 
 
 SCENE II.— SelyseUe's Bedroom. 
 
 Seltsette lies upon her bed. Enter Aglavaine and 
 Meleander. 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 [With a slight movement^ Is it "you, Aglavaine? Is 
 it you, Meleander ? — I was only waiting for you to 
 become perfectly happy. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 131 
 
 Meleandeb. 
 
 \Bwrsting into tears as he throws himself upon the 
 bed.~\ Selysette ! . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 What is the matter ? . . . You are both crying. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Selysette ! Selysette ! . . . What have you done ? 
 . . . Oh wretch that I am ! . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 What is the matter, Aglavaine ? . . . Why are you 
 so distressed? . . . Have I done anything to make 
 you unhappy ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 No, no, my poor Selysette, you do not bring 
 unhappiness with you. . . It is I who bring death 
 . . . it is I who have failed to do all that I should 
 
 have done. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I do not understand, Aglavaine. . . What has 
 happened — tell me. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 I ought to have known, Selysette, and I thought I 
 
132 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 did know, when I spoke to you the other day. . . 
 For many days past something has been unceasingly 
 crying aloud in my heart, and I found nothing, and 
 knew nothing, of what should be done — though it 
 needed but the simplest word that the simplest 
 creature on earth might have spoken to save a life 
 that only craved to live. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 What did you know ? tell me. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 When you spoke of that idea of yours, the other 
 day, Selysette . . . and this morning, and again this 
 afternoon, I should have held you close to me, so 
 close that it should have fallen between us like a 
 pressed-out grape. . . I should have plunged my 
 two hands into your soul, and dragged forth the 
 death that I felt was living there. . . I should 
 have achieved something by dint of love . . . and I 
 knew of nothing I could do, and I looked on and was 
 blind to it all, though I saw everything, everything ! 
 . . . The wretchedest girl of this wretched village 
 would have found a kiss that should save life for us ! 
 . . . Either have I been unutterably base or un- 
 utterably blind ! . . . The first time, perhaps, that I 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 133 
 
 have fled from the truth like a child! . . . And I 
 dare not probe into myself. . . Forgive me, Sely- 
 sette ; never again will gladness dwell with me. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Truly, I know not what you mean. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Do not you too fly from the truth. . . I refused 
 to listen to all that was being said at the deepest of 
 mo — and you see the result. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 "What was it that was being said ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 By day and by night did I hear that you were 
 seeking death. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 'Twas not I that sought it, Aglavaine mine; I 
 went not to meet it, but it came to me. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Death had pity on us, and it was not you it was 
 seeking. See how it has shrunk from you as you 
 clutched at it. . . 
 
134 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Nay, nay, Aglavaine mine, it is but waiting till you 
 be happier. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Long must it wait then, my poor Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Hearken to me, Aglavaine. I am indeed glad that 
 you delayed not, but came to me at once, for I feel 
 that ere long my mind will wander from me. . . 
 Something there is, here, which presses on my 
 eyelids. . . But whatever I may say, later on — I 
 cannot tell what I may say — you know the strange 
 fancies that flit across the dying. . . I was at a 
 death-bed once, and it is my turn now. . . "Well, 
 whatever I may say later on, do you pay no heed. . . 
 But at present I know what I am saying ; and do you 
 listen to that only, and recall that only, and that 
 alone. . . Surely there lingers not a doubt within 
 you, Aglavaine ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Of what should I be in doubt, my poor Selysette ? 
 
 Selysette. 
 Do you imagine that . . . ? 
 
AGLAVAINB AND SELYSETTE 135 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Yes. . . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 
 That it was not by accident I fell ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 I know it was not,- Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 "We are told that falsehood is impossible to those 
 who die, Aglavaine, and I mean to tell you the 
 truth. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I knew full well that, from the love you bore us, 
 you would be strong enough for that. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 It was an accident, and I fell, Aglavaine mine. 
 
 Is it you who are sobbing, Meleander ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Hearken now to me, Selysette. . . You know that 
 the truth is known to us. . . And if at this moment 
 I question you, it is not from doubt of mine, but it is 
 so that you, you, should doubt no more. . . You are 
 very beautiful, Selysette, and I am on my knees before 
 you. . . The thing that you have done, so simply, 
 
136 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSBTTE 
 
 is the most beautiful thing whereof love is capable 
 
 when love deludes itself. . . But now I ask you to 
 
 do something more beautiful still, and I ask it in the 
 
 name of another, and an undeluded, love. . . Locked 
 
 between your lips, there lies the perfect peace of all 
 
 our life. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Of what peace do you speak, Aglavaine ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Of one that is far-reaching, and very sad. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 But how can I give it to you, Aglavaine ? Where 
 shall I seek it within me ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 You need but tell us that you wished to die, think- 
 ing thus to make us happy. , . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Gladly would I say this to you, Aglavaine, but it is 
 
 impossible, seeing that it is untrue. . . You do not 
 
 believe that one could tell an untruth on one's 
 
 death-bed? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I beseech you, think not of death, Selysette. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 137 
 
 See, I kiss you, and pour all my life into your veins, 
 and flood your soul with the spirit of life — and surely 
 death cannot come near ! . . . Oh God ! how to pro- 
 long her life I . . . See, if death were here I could 
 understand the telling of this falsehood. . . But 
 death is far away, and all life is clamouring for the 
 truth. . . Say not no, Selysette; and do not shake 
 your head ; speaking to each other as we are now 
 speaking, can we possibly be mistaken ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 And none the less are you wrong, Aglavaine. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Must we weep far apart then, with thousands of 
 miles between us ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 "Why will you not believe it to be true ? 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Not even a child would believe it — for there is not 
 a word of yours, not an act, but proves the con- 
 trary. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Which words and acts do you speak of ? . . . 
 
138 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Aglavainb. 
 Why did you bid farewell to your grandam ? 
 
 Seltsette. 
 
 Never did I leave the house but first I bade her 
 good-bye. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Why. . . But why everything, Selysette ? . . . 
 Oh, the misery of asking questions such as these, when 
 death is close by, and we know that the truth is there, 
 to our hand, nestling beneath her heart ! . . . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 
 Your doubts will sadden me, Aglavaine, and I was 
 feeling happy. . . What can I do so that you shall 
 doubt no more ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Give us the truth, Selysette. . . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 But what is the truth you desire ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 It was I who, all unwittingly, urged you to 
 this. . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 139 
 
 Selysette. 
 No, no, Aglavaine, urged was I by none. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 It needs but one word to dispel the clouds from 
 life, and on my knees do I beseech you to say this 
 one poor word. . . Whisper it to me if you will, let 
 your eyes make a sign to me, and even Meleander 
 shall never know. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 Aglavaine is right, Selysette. . . I ask it, 
 
 too. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I was leaning over, and I fell. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 You asked me so often what I would do in your 
 
 place. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I was leaning over, and I fell. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Do you not know why I question you thus ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 Yes, yes, Aglavaine mine, I can see that it would 
 
140 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 have been more beautiful, but it would not be the 
 
 truth. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 [Sobbing.] Oh, God ! how poverty-stricken we are 
 before all those of simple love ! . . . 
 
 Aglavaine ! 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 Selysette ! . . . What has happened ? . . . You 
 are turning pale. ... Is the pain worse ? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 No. . . It is the joy that makes me suffer. . . Oh ! 
 how you are weeping, Meleander ! . . . 
 
 Meleandek. 
 Selysette ! . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Do not weep like this, my poor Meleander. . . 
 Now do we indeed love each other. . . There is no 
 reason for the shedding of a tear. . . Soon I shall 
 be dead, and there will be so glad a smile on my 
 lips that you will scarce believe I can be dead, 
 so happy shall I seem. . . To smile at such a 
 moment one has to be truly, deeply happy, and 
 I cannot conceive how, little as I am, I can yet hold 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 141 
 
 so great a paradise in my heart ; and at times I am 
 afraid that I shall take all the happiness away with 
 me. . . What ? You crying too, Aglavaine ? Is it 
 not happiness, then ? . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Give us the perfect peace, Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 I will give you the peace you gave me, Agla- 
 vaine. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 You could give it, but you will not. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 And yet is there such great peace within me, 
 
 Aglavaine. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 [Sobbing.] God Himself were wrong before you, 
 
 Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 [With a change in her voice.] But why are you 
 going away, said my grandam to me, why go away, 
 my child ? Because of a key I have found, grandam, 
 because of a key I have found. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Selysette ! . . . 
 
142 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 [Coming to herself.'] Yssaline ! . . . What was I 
 saying ? . . . Tell me what I said ... it is not true 
 ... I warned you. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 You said nothing, nothing ... he not uneasy, my 
 poor Selysette. ■ . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 I warned you. . . I may perhaps be saying 
 things soon, but they will not be true. . . You will 
 forgive me, for my soul is growing so weak. . . Did 
 I speak of grandam ? ■ . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Yes. . . 
 
 Seltsette. 
 
 Yes, I wanted to tell you. . . You must raise 
 her without touching her arms. ... I would have 
 taught you, but time, time would not allow. Oh ! 
 Aglavaine, be careful ! . . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 [Alarmed.] What is it, what is it, Selysette? . . . 
 
AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 143 
 
 Selysette. 
 Nothing, nothing ; it is going. . . I thought I 
 was about to say things that were not true. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I will not ask for the truth any more, Sely- 
 sette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 Put your hand over my mouth when I say things 
 
 that are untrue. . . Promise, promise, I beseech 
 
 you. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 I promise, Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette to Meleander. 
 
 I have something to say to her, Meleander. . . 
 [Meleander goes away silently l\ He is sad, he is sad. 
 . . . You will tell him some day, by-and-by, when he 
 has forgotten . . . put your hand on my lips, 
 Aglavaine, a sudden pain has come to me. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Tell me, tell me, Selysette. . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 I have forgotten what I had to say. . . It was 
 not truth, but falsehood, that was coming. . . Put 
 
144 AGLAVAINE AND SELYSETTE 
 
 your hand over my eyes, too. ... It is well that 
 they should be closed by you who opened them. . . 
 It is time, it is time. . . 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 Selysette? . . . 
 
 Selysette. 
 
 [Very faintly.] I was ... I was leaning over, and 
 
 I fell. . . [She dies. 
 
 Aglavaine. 
 
 [ With a sob.] Meleander. . . 
 
 Meleander. 
 
 [Falls, sobbing, on to Selysette's body.] Sely- 
 sette ! . . . 
 
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