i /-' ;■ ! . • ■ . ? .1 ■ f- rvof caj RIVERSIDE mmsiVt Of CALIfOfiNM ^Y^'-" SELF'S THE MAN BOOKS BY JOHN DAVIDSON PLAYS FLEET STREET ECLOGUES Tivo Series BALLADS AND SONGS NEW BALLADS GODFRIDA THE LAST BALLAD, AND OTHER POEMS This play was completed in September, 1899. Acting rights, and all other rights^ reserved. SELF'S THE iMAN A TRAGI-COMEDY BY JOHN DAVmSON • Be your own star, for strength is from within And one against the world will always win." LONDON GRANT RICHARDS 1901 LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. CONTENTS ACT I PAGE The Election i ACT II Elixir Vit^ 59 ACT III The Conspiracy 120 ACT IV Osmunda's Pomander 155 ACT V Nil Nisi Bonuim ig6 PERSONS Urban LUCIAN TlIRASIMUND HiLDEBRAND Adalbert . LUDOLF Pasqual The Duke of Garda Almeric Ulric . Philadelphus . junipert The Bishop uk Pa via Saturnia . OSMUNDA ViOLANTE . Sybil . r Rivals for the throne cj Lonibardy A dcinai^Oi^uc. 0/Luci\y'ii fart}'. Of Uruan's party, \ At first of Lucian's party ; but [ from the Second Act of Urban's. A philosopher. A poet. Urban's mistress. Hildebrand's daughter. Thrasimund's wife. Urban's danzhter. A Physician^ a Blacksmith, a Vinedresser, a Shepherd, a Mes- senger, a Priest, a Merchant, a Man, Acolytes, Lords, Ladies, A'uns, Citizens, Soldiers, Servants, the Rabble, and SaiurNIa's Retinue. SELF'S THE MAN ACT I The Election Scene. — The outskirts of Pavia. A grassy knoll rises 7iear tJie centre of the stage, and is crowned by a vioss-grown rock zvhick has been rudely squared. At the back and left and right are clumps of old chestnut trees in flower. The walled city is behind. It is toivards noon in the beginning of summer. Lords, ladies, citizens, etc., pass and re- pass among the trees. It is evident that a croivd is gathcriug. 2 SELF'S THE MAN Philadelphus and Junipert enter right and left. Philadelphus is bearded ; his hair, tin- kempt. He is stont, ruddy, and cheerfnl- looking ; dressed in a ragged brown robe and wearing sandals ; he carries a stout stick. Junipert is slender, with long dark hair. He is dressed in rusty black, and carries tablets in zvhich he is ivriting. Phil, {intercepting Junipert), Have I ima- gined it, or did we meet? You prey on faded wardrobes ; and the rust Of ancient armour is your condiment : A vamper of archaic vocables, Extinct mythologies, illicit lore. And general obsolescence : poet still, Courageously, and in contempt of time. JUNI. And I know you, sir: a philosopher; SELF'S THE MAN 3 One that has given in to fate ; that bows The knee to the inevitable ; ass Of the world's old burden, thought ; and turnspit, wheeled To reason in a circle endlessly. Phil. Believe it, since you must. I deem myself Intelligence essential. — What is that ? JUNL The coronation-stone of Lombardy, As every crow can tell. Phil. And do you know That here, within the hour, the Lombards meet To choose their king ? JUNL Of course I know! Phil. And waste Your brain on longs and shorts ? You cannot know ! Think : to be king ! — At some time in his life 4 SELF'S THE MAN The aim of every mother's son. JUNI. Not so! The poet ranks above the highest king. Phil. Believe it, if you can. But I pro- fess Philosophy — the cult of good and ill. Being, as I am, a representative, A packed compendium, of humanity. My pulses, nerves — my whole assembly aches With antepastoral jealousy of him Who shall be crowned to-day ; and I am come To breed, in the locality and air Of this event, a project I have hatched, Whereby to seize a notoriety That shall eclipse the firmament of fame About to open on a royal head Unknown as yet. JUNL Foolish philosopher ! Look : I indite a poem as I walk. SELF'S THE MAN 5 Behold erasure and a threshing-floor ; A strife, a granary, a monument ! Phil. But yours is the appeal to aftertimes. Who ever heard posterity applaud ! No ; I must have my name dance on the tongues Of all men in my hearing. [compels JUNH'ERT to sit on the coronation-stone. ] Aribert, King of the Lombards, died a week ago. And sepulchred in royal state he lies. On the same day died Martin Rustyblade, The headsman, and was shovelled into earth — A furtive burial. Now, you are king — But think so ! — crowned, enthroned. I, with my staff And sandals JUNL Look who comes ! \i-ises and is about to go ont.] 6 SELF'S THE MAN Phil. Old Thraslmund ! No room for us where he perambulates ! This way — with me. I must rehearse the part I'll act at the election of the king. [^They go out together.'] Enter from the right Thrasimund, Almeric, Adalbert, Ludolf, and Ulric. Thrasi- mund is an old man ivith grey heard and scanty locks well trimmed. He enters quickly in advance of the others, looking ahont on all sides. Adalbert and Ludolf are between fifty and sixty years of age : officials. Almeric and Ulric are yonng and handsome. Thra. Where is my wife ? [goes out testily.^ Adal. He should, indeed, be told. His dotage undermines his old renown : Our party suffers. Shall we bluntly say, SELF'S THE MAN 7 " Now, Thrasimund, your wife the world knows well Is deep in love with Urban. She has sent Apparent missives; she has flung him looks. True, Urban's passion for Saturnia Absorbs him wholly ; but at twenty-five Love is a rambler. Heed it, Thrasimund." LuD. Explicit. And commend his own repute To his best care ; for when an oldster weds A lusty girl he pawns his character. And seldom is the shabby pledge redeemed Even by the most heroic wariness. Alm. And be derided for your wittolhood ! Best leave December and the fateful May To thaw and freeze and make a season out With weather of their own. Ulr. The climate there Is treacherous, I've heard, for come-betweens. — Have you seen Lucian yet ?— Ah, Hildebrand ! 8 SELF'S THE MAN Enter HiLDEBRAND from the left. He is ahotLt sixty years old, but looks younger. His face is poiverful and eager, its original frankness obscured by craft, long thwarted but still alive and Jwpeftil. HiLD. {indignantly as he enters). Men are more obstinate, more volatile, More rash, more pusillanimous than flies ! Alm. Some men, my lord. HiLD. Six that I know of, sir ! But where is Lucian ? Alm. None of us can tell. HiLD. He left his house before the dawn, they say. Where can he be ? And Thrasimund ? [Almeric points o?it Thrasimund.] Antique Afflictive amorist, with honeyed wine That only youth can carry, love I mean, SELF'S THE MAN 9 Unnerved and sodden ! {Re-enter Thrasimund zuifh Violante. Vio- LANTE is about tivcnty-five years old ; a harebrained, volnptiions luoniaji^^ All our skill that joined Inveterate enmities — I greet you, madam — Our drudgery in herding fools, our high Elaborate hopes are squandered and engulfed As in a quicksand, never to be found. Viol. How ! Have the waverers abandoned you ? HiLD, Not one ! Not one ! But six false lords we deemed Securely rooted in our interests. Viol. Six ! You lose the election, then. What are their names ? HiLD. Perish their names ! Viol. How were the traitors bribed .? lo SELF'S THE MAN HiLD. By Urban's subtle charm, by that alone. Viol. He has I know not what of careless grace ; A look, a tone Thra. Effeminate, I say! Unstable, wanton, glib, and arrogant. He jests at worth and age ; and HiLD. What you say Is certain. Lucian is the nobler man ; But our emergency could overlook In him his rival's fortune that converts Six enemies at supper with a word. LUD. Is there no scheme to countervail this blow ? Enter from the left a Messenger runnmg at a measured pace. Thra. One never knows. HiLD. What messenger is that? SELF'S THE MAN il Quick, bring him here! He may have news for us. [Almeric and Ulric folloiu the Messenger and return zviih him.'] Viol. Or for your enemies. Thra. For us then still ; And more significantly too. HiLD. {to the Messenger). The letter. Mess, {ajfccting stupidity). O sir, my lord, your excellency — pray, Which is the way to Pavia, here or there } HiLD. The letter that you carry ! Mess. Thanks, my lord ! {tries to escape.'] HiLD. Search him ! [The Messenger is searched, and a letter taken from the breast of his tunic.] Thra. {seising the letter). For Urban ! HiLD. Who commissioned you? Mess. What have they found ? Who says I stole it ? Shame ! 12 SELF'S THE MAN HiLD. A rogue that serves his master as he can ! Thra. From the Duke of Garda! [read- ing.'\ " It is rumoured here " — he writes from Ravenna — "It is rumoured here that the more potent voice of the nobihty will support Lucian. I and my company are at your dis- posal. The Exarch of Ravenna offers aid. Be king by right of conquest. Lombardy remains a mere scaftbld, an untied faggot until the monarchy becomes absolute." HiLD. This to Urban from the Duke of Garda, known A base self-seeker, who would set the world At war, so he might gather odds and ends Dropped in the scuffle ! Thra. If we publish now That Urban is in league with one endured Only by those who need him ; if we taint His name with treason ! SELF'S THE MAN 13 Viol. But we know not that ; Because had Lucian stood in Urban's shoes He might have had this letter. Thra. Gently urged ! You have the grace so to suppose ; but men Will think the worst — and very vilely too, As I intend. This letter, closed again, Must be delivered in the public sight, While I harangue the assembly. Bitterly I shall accuse him : " Let the letter speak ! " Shall be my cry. When this is read aloud The six recalcitrants are ours once more ! HiLD. If he decline to have his letter read .'' Thra. He stands confessed a traitor obvious ! Better for us if he decline to read ! I shall so press it home that either way He loses the election. I am deft 14 SELF'S THE MAN At these contrivances. A little heat Will mend this seal, and shiver Urban's luck. — Ludolf, your house is scarce a stone's throw hence. [Thrasimund, Violante, Adal- bert, Ludolf, and the Mes- senger go 01lt'\ K\M. {looking to the right). They have left the city. The Bishop brings the crown, HiLD, Lucian is with the Bishop, I sup- pose. Alm. He should have been with us, HiLD. Where is my daughter? I see her, now. Ask her to come to me. Alm. She comes unbidden. — Let us meet them, Ulric, [Almeric and Ulric go out together?)^ SELF'S THE MAN 15 Enter OsMUNDA. She is in Iter iiventieth year, bnt looks yonnger ; is tall and fair. Her face, in repose almost expressionless, becomes exceedi?igly mobile zvJien her atten- tion is aroused. OSM. I felt you wished me. HiLD. You have understood — I think, Osmunda, you have understood My purposes. [Osmunda shrinks from her father.'] You would be spared. I, too, Have spared myself and weakly left unsaid, When every omen beckoned me to speak, This that I stammer now, though time and place Are most unapt. Not less than sacrilege It seems to pry into my daughter's heart. Now most I wish your mother were alive ! — Has Lucian spoken yet? i6 SELF'S THE MAN OSM. Of love, sir ? No. HiLD. He loves you ? OSM. Sir, I cannot truly tell. HiLD. But you love him ? OSM. I love you and this land The Lombards won from the false Roman. HiLD. Yes ; The Lombards first ! I taught you that ; and great It is to throne the natio n we are of Above ourselves, our lovers, kindred, friends. But Lucian after Lombardy ? — My thought Is stamped upon the realm. King Aribert, A brave and loyal nature, was to me A sceptre and a sword wherewith I ruled The Lombards, carved the figure of the state, And lopped its enemies. The name of King I cannot compass: I am hated, feared. As all just rulers are. Wherefore, because I deem myself the man most competent SELF'S THE MAN 17 To guide the destinies of Lombardy, I would make Lucian king, a youth I love, And sometimes have instructed in my craft. My government and scheme of policy. Although to neither have I told my hope, {ivitJi hesitation) Still, he and you OSM. He has not spoken yet ! HiLD. That may not be amiss. I will believe He loves you ; and you him : but Lom- bardy O'ermasters every passion in your heart. Were Urban to be chosen [OsuXJ'^'DK shrinks further away from her father.'] If chance, that trips The heels of purposes no skill can throw. Should make this Urban king, could you — The thing being possible — give him your hand ? C i8 SELF'S THE MAN OSM. Give him my hand ! Urban my hand ! — He asked Me once to marry him HiLD. {eagerly). Did he, indeed ! He loves you, then ? OSM. Oh no ! I was, he said. The sweetest lady in the land ; and so He umst have me to wife. Insolent fop ! {impulsively) Oh, father, Lucian, since by heart awoke, Is king of me ! HiLD. (ill a tone of menace, but qiiietly). If the great future I have prepared for Lombardy requires My daughter to be queen — and should the lot Be cast for Urban, chief of those that thwart My policy, who else can save the state ? — She would not stand upon a girlish plea Of personal affection. OSM. Save the state SELF'S THE MAN 19 By marrying Urban ! HiLD. Just by marrying Urban. OSM. {in a lozu voice). The lover of Saturnia ! HiLD. As Urban's wife My daughter could impart my influence, Turn enmity to friendship, reinstall The fulness of my power, should I be thrown From my high office. (pleasantly) But this is to forecast A most unlikely order of events. Our Lucian — let us meet him — shall be king ; Osmunda, queen ; and I, old drudge of state, Shall bear the blame of all their tyranny. OSM. I pray you let me stay here by my- self. Until they come. I would consider this. HiLD. Consider most the weal of Lom- bardy. [goes out.'] OSM. The weal of Lombardy ! — To be the wife 20 SELF'S THE MAN Of Urban ; him, whose presence, whose ap- proach Fills me with dark misgiving ; whom I hate— If I hate any one. For Lombardy, And for my father, could I bear such woe ? Enter LUCIAN. He is about thirty years old; handsome and in free moments gracefid ; but bashfid and awkward as a rule. He is in deep thought on his entrance. OSM. Lucian ! Luc. Osmunda ! OSM. Why alone, my lord ? Luc. To think ! to think ! I have been abroad since morn. Am I the man who should be king ? The doubt That hampers me admonishes my soul Of most unkingly weakness. In myself Unchosen and uncrowned, am I the king ? SELF'S THE MAN 21 OSM. {with a certain degree of abandomnent, rebelling at her father s harsh control.) You arc the king ; and all your shifting doubts Are jewels in your native diadem Of perfect truth. Luc. That is your inmost thought ? OSM. The deep conviction of my very soul. Luc. It helps ! it helps ! And yet I need some sign, Else at the fateful moment when the lords Acclaim my coronation, I may cry, " I am unworthy, for I doubt myself," And fling the crown away. OsM. A sign, my lord? Luc. From you, I have another torturing doubt Deeper than my vocation to the throne. OSM. And I, my lord, can set that doubt at rest? 22 SELF'S THE MAN Luc. You only. OSM. It is dead and buried, then ! Luc. Buried and festering here ! If you can find This wound, probe it, and draw the ragged shaft That rankles in my heart ; it shall denote That my unkingly doubt is fantasy. OSM. You ask a miracle. Luc. Can love perform No wonders now? OSM. {faintly). Love! Luc. Speak ! Uproot my doubt ! OSM. Oh, my lord Lucian ! but I love you well. Luc. {tri2tmpJiantIy). Then am I king ! For since you love me well It cannot be — it cannot surely be That I am all unworthy of your love ; And having that shall I demur and dread SELF'S THE MAN 23 To wear the lesser glory of the crown ? OSM. Fear not the highest destiny ! Luc. For you ! It is for you ! How could I offer her Who gives me love less than the name of queen ? OSM. (suddetily recollecting her father s sug- gest io7i). If you should not be chosen king ! Luc. Not king? But it is sure ! They never can elect The ruffling Urban, petulant and vain, The minion of his pleasures. Hildebrand, Your father, knoivs that I am to be king. OSM. If Urban shotild be chosen ! Luc. Never at all Have I imagined that ! It must not be ! I could not marry you, I could not live Were Urban — Urban ! — to be chosen kine ! OsM. Behold I have revealed you to your- self! 24 SELF'S THE MAN Before your proud ideal you are in doubt; Against your rival, strong and resolute. Luc. Against a thousand rivals ! \takes Osmunda's Jiaud?[ OSM. But, my lord. My father and your friends are seeking you. Luc. I had to be alone. And it was well Because of this encounter. OSM. Well— and ill. [LUCIAN releases her hand and stares at her blankly. OSMUNDA offers kirn a pomander that hangs at her girdle?^ What is that — do you know? Luc. {handling the pomander.) Why, what it seems. An exquisite pomander. OsM. It is besides A desperate comfort ; poison, smelling sweet As violets rooted by a sepulchre. [ Lucia N takes her hand with great solicitude.^ SELF'S THE MAN 25 Ask nothing of me — nothing. [goes 07U quickly.'] Luc. Still the doubt! [goes out after OSMUNDA.] Re-enter Tiirasimund, Adalbert, Ludolf, ViOLANTE, aiid the Messenger. Thra. Yes ; but it must be opportunely done. {to the Messenger.] Your post is near my lady. On the spur Of her mute prompting this deliver straight. [gives the letter to the Messenger.] Mess. To whom shall I deliver it.? Thra. To one That least expects it. LUD. Do you leave him here } Alone ? Viol. The man is human at the best. His patience and obedience need some help. 26 SELF'S THE MAN Let me remain while you rejoin your friends. Thra. Sweetheart, it shall be so. — Foot- man, attend ! [ViOLANTE sits on the coronation- stone, and the Messenger stands by her side.] Is she not infinitely adorable, Immaculately beautiful and chaste ? [Thrasimund, Adalbert, and LUDOLF o-o out. Viol. Your mask of dulness fits you badly. Ouick, Your hand ! It's broad, but scarcely deep enough. Join them and make a chalice. Pocket that. \JilIs his hands ivitJi /nonej'.] Give me the letter. [ The Messenger gives her the letter, wJiich she tears into small pieces and scatters iji a clnmp of cJiestnuts.] SELF'S THE MAN 27 Now indeed, you look A genuine fool ! [tal^es a letter from her bosom and hands it to the Messenger.] When the election's over Give Urban this. Mess. Is it not hazardous? Viol. Most hazardous ; we trip the shift ing sand Between the devil and the deep sea. Hang About my skirts. Be docile and you're made. Enter the Rabble, crying " Lncian ! Lnciaji ! " After tJiem Citizens, including PlllLADEL- PHUS and JUNIPERT. Then Lords and Ladies, preceding LuciAN, OSMUNDA, HiLDEBRAND, ThRASIMUND, VIOLANTE, LuDOLF, Adalbert, Almeric, and Ulric, %vJio stand on the left, TJiese are folloived by a body of Soldiers, wJlo march the Citizens and the Rabble to the back of 28 SELF'S THE MAN the stage and guard a passage from the riHit to the coronation-stone. ViOLANTE and the Messenger Jiave come down to the front on the right. HiLD. {zvhispering). The matter of the letter, Thrasimund ? TriRA. {ivhispering). Placed in the safest hands in Lombardy. My wife shall at a passage in my speech, Discharge the courier with his tell-tale news At Urban's head. HiLD. {to himself). Old fool! His wife? His bosom-enemy ! I'll set a watch. \whispers to LuDOLF, zvJio crosses and stands beside Messenger.] Enter the BiSHOP OF Pavia, attended by Acolytes swinging censers, a Priest carry- ing the Iron Crown on a cnsJiion, and SELF'S THE MAN 29 Servants with a cloth of gold zohich they fling over the coronation-stone. The Bishop stands on the right of the knoll, Acolytes on one hand, and the Priest on the other. Adal. {looking out right). He loiters, talking idly with his friends. LUD. His fate is on the anvil and he laughs. Thra. Begin, my lord, the business of the hour. BiSH. Although this Urban be unmannerly, Our conduct must become us. Enter Urban, ivith Pasqual on his right ; a little behind him five otJicr Lords and a Falconer with hawks. Urban is about tzventyfive, ivith yelloiu curls hanging to his shoulders. His mous- tache is trimmed to give him a Juvetdle 30 SELF'S THE MAN appearance. He Jias a hooded Jiaivk on his gaitntletted left hand, and carries a Jiaivk- ing-pole in his right. He is dressed in a richly ornamented Jiavoking-costmne. His presence makes the air electric; all are wondering what he zvill do, what he will say. PasqUAL is aboitt URBAN 's age; dark- haired ; devoted to URBAN. On the entrance of URBAN, LuciAN shrinks behind OSMUNDA. Urb. Lucian ! Where — Where is my princely rival ? [OSMUNDA pushes Lucian fonvard. Urban throivs his haivking-pole to PasqUAL, and crossing qnickly to Lucian takes his hand.'] Good-day, my lord ! {radiantly) Whether I win or lose, my pride is throned SELF'S THE MAN 31 As high as my desire because of this : — I was found worthy to contest with you The iron crown of Lombardy. Luc. {stiffly). My lord, I thank you. Urb. I have often thought it strange We meet so seldom. Luc. I frequent the past More than the dazzling tumult of the hour. Urb. Where silence reigns and thought may wander free ! I love the past ; but there no deeds are done ; And I would act. Deeds, deeds, my lord ! Luc. And thoughts. Urb. It is a deed to think as I intend. To dream, to mope in cloisters with a book ; To argue with one's self — an easy fight, The practised dexter brandishing a sword Against the awkward dagger of the left . . . \interyitpting himself, as his gesture brings his hawk to inind.'\ 32 SELF'S THE MAN My merlin with the russet-velvet wing, The birds of heaven shall fall beneath your feet ! . . . I say, to think in solitude at home Is not to think but to be lunatic. Pale-hearted is the thought that dare not be As kindred to its deed as sound and light When heaven is masked and wields the thunderbolt. Luc. One must command the world to think that way. Urb. Assuredly ; scarce one man in an age Can think his meaning out. Luc. You force the word. Urb. Words are my toys. I swear all other thought Than that which works in things, not signs ; and moves Abreast with action to the happy close Is like a headless spear, a wooden sword. SELF'S THE MAN 33 BiSH. My lord Urban, you have delayed the act For which we are met ; further, it fits you ill Upon this solemn business to appear With hawk on fist. Thra. a merlin too, we note — The imperial bird. Urb. {to Thrasimund). It is your rightful wish That I should lose the election ; If I do, Would you withhold such pure oblivion Of my defeat as may immediately Befriend me, when I watch my merlin, belled With Milan silver, climb the tingling air? \^ives his hawk to the Falconer.] HiLD. My lord, your gaiety would gild the world Were daylight done. Our Lucian here is set To graver music ; not a wink of sleep Had he all night, revolving desperately D 34 SELF'S THE MAN The issue of to-day. Urb. And did I rest? A watch devout of sleepless nightingales Attended in my garden where I paced Till morn ; above the meadows now the larks Enwreath the sky with sound ; but neither night Nor day, nor nature's timely melody Could tune my mind to any constant mood. Here only, at the moment of my fate, My soul at last reposes, and I know, Howe'er it ends, I shall be satisfied. — Come, my lord bishop, let the vote be cast. Thra. One word. You see, and many, I believe, Proscribe in silence Urban's arrogance ; Though some, corrupted by the spell, so- called. Of his reputed charm, excuse, nay praise, That wanton style, which in another, all SELF'S THE MAN 35 Would censure and chastise. Beneath this trick, This brilliant ambush of Indifferent pride, There lurks, believe me, a tyrannic soul. LUD. {ivJdspering). Now is your time. Mess. Not yet! Viol. {wJdspering). Leave him alone ! Voices. Silence there ; silence ! Thra. It is known, at last, That Urban is in league with traitors. LuD. Back ! \thrusting tJie Messenger forzvard while seeming to restrain hiin.l Come back ! He will not be withheld. He bears. He says, post-haste, a letter from Ravenna. Thra. A letter from Ravenna, that forcing- house Of enmity to Lombard rule ! For whom ? LuD. For Urban. Adal. In the very nick of time ! 36 SELF'S THE MAN Urb. The devil's children have the devil's luck. Give me this letter that arrives so pat. \takes the letter^] I know the writing. [fails himself zvitJi the letter. — ViOLANTE looks imploringly at URBAN, but his glance never turns her way^ Thra. It is hot, my lord ; And will be warmer, presently, for you. — Nobles and men of Lombardy, our king Has ever been the servant of his people. Obedient to the laws. If you elect This traitorous lord, you choose a malcontent Whose aim will be to overturn the state, To rule as despot and enslave us all. BiSH. Your accusation would be weightier Did you advance some proof. Thra. What further proof Is needed than the message now received ? SELF'S THE MAN 37 Urb. This is a private letter — from a friend. Thra. Will you permit the letter to be read ? Urb. If I refuse ? Thra. Your treason is confessed. Voices. The letter! Read the letter! Urb. Very well. But first, be warned. A lifelong memory Of what you now demand will gnaw your heart With exquisite regret. Thra. My heart ? For shame ! A paltry ruse to turn the tables ! Read ! If that is not of treasonable mark, Some outlaw's message, I'll unpack my brains To feed a housewife's poultry. Me, regret ! Urb. {with a glance of compassion). The seal is yet unbroken. Thra. Break it now. BiSH. Give me the letter. Should the charge be true, 38 SELF'S THE MAN Nothing were simpler than to read a note Of invitation or a friendly wish, And leave our doubt silenced but unresolved. [ViOLANTE zvitJi a sinotJiered exclamation hurries 07tt.'\ Thra. a pregnant counsel ! Urb. Read it then, my lord. [gives the letter to the BISHOP.] A moment ! Do you fear to find my name Blighted for ever ? BiSH. No ; some strange abuse Is here at work. Thra. Some strange abuse, indeed ! Urb. It may be so. BiSH. {having opetied the letter and glanced at the signature). I am sorry, Thrasimund. This comes from Violante. [All look towards the place where ViO- LANTE Jiad been standing, and many nod their heads knowingly^ SELF'S THE MAN 39 Thra. What ! Voices. Read ! Read ! BiSH. {reading) "May it please your majesty. My hope has made you king already, my most dear Urban, and if now you wear the crown you owe it to me. This letter is in place of one which, by my husband's ar- rangement, should have lost you the kingship. Oh, my lord, your constant scorn maddens me ! For this service, what reward ? — VlO- LANTE." Thra. Give it me ! \The Bishop gives Thrasimund the letter.'\ How is this ? Where is she ? Where ! Alm. Gone home to hang herself! Thra. I can explain Ulr. Explain a bye word old as time it- self! Upon your face the truth is wrinkled deep. 40 SELF'S THE MAN Thra. I mean to say- HlLD. Mean silence, and go home. [Tpirasimund, becoming more and more confused, half stumbles, and is half pushed from one to the other of several lords, ivho address him in turnJl 1ST L. Some men, if marriages be made in heaven, Have few friends there. 2ND L. This was a vulgar trick ! 3RD L. The fox that hastens forth to buy a knife Lands often in the furrier's. 4TH L. You trudge home shorn. 5TH L. And stuck with proverbs like an archer's mark. [ThrasimuND is ahoiU to fall, when Urban supports Jam and leads Jiiui out, retu7'ning immediately.'] SELF'S THE MAN 41 Voice {from the rabble). Hey ! Keep your brains for your oion poultry-yard ! 6th L. I vote for Urban now! Other Lords. And I, and I. BiSH. The memory of this disgrace must fret High hearts the longest ; but the tongues of all Who love the state will leave the thing un- touched Henceforth for ever, garbage for gossipers. — By our old wont we are assembled here To choose a king. Two names are offered you : Urban and Lucian. I commend them both. Who vote for Lucian ? Lucian's Party {i.vith drawn swords in air). Lucian ! [Lucian half draivs his szvord and drives it hack into the scabbard disdainfiilly.'] 42 SELF'S THE MAN BiSH. Now, for Urban? Urban's Party {an evident majority, zvith draivn swords in air). Urban ! [Urban, having no szuord, takes one before he has time to reslieath it from a supporter of Lucian's, and is the first to vote for himself.^ Lords, Ladies, Citizens. Urban ! Rabble. Urban, king of the Lombards ! BiSH. {to Lucian). Do you demand a poll } It is your right. Luc. I thank you. It is needless now, my lord. {stiffly, nerving himself to say it ; to URBAN.) The crown is yours, I am your majesty's : Command my loyalty. Urb. Oh, noble Lombard ! To-night, I hope to welcome you, my guest, Most honoured, most illustrious. SELF'S THE MAN 43 Luc. Pardon me ; I wish to be alone. {moves towards Osmunda, then tnr?is away and goes out hastily. Os- MUNDA, deeply distressed, is aho2it to follozv LUCIAN, blLt HiLDEBRAND withholds her.'] Phil, {bursts through the guard and falls at Urban's feet). A boon ! a boon ! Urb. What suitor have we here ? Phil. Your majesty, I am, so please you, a philosopher. Urb. And what is that? Phil. A thinker, who adopts His proper attitude. Urb. Adopt another. Rise and define yourself. Phil, (rises). I do not ask That men should see themselves as others do, I am concerned that I myself should see 44 SELF'S THE MAN My fellow-creatures as they see themselves. Urb. a most magnanimous philosophy ! How do you like it, Pasqual ? Pasq. I should hold Such conscious magnanimity suspect. Urb. a thing put on ? Good ; magna- nimity Can never be acquired, and nothing shows More feeble than its affectation. Phil, True ; Yet hear me out. Magnanimous I am ; But like the meanest and the greatest here, Envy of your great fortune sears my soul. Urb. Envy of me ! Phil. As long as life shall last! Nothing to me is of significance Between your station and nonentity. And since I cannot be the king alone Upon the apex of the pyramid, Make me the headsman to frequent its base, SELF'S THE MAN 45 Expelled and banned, a being less than nought. Urb. The headsman ? Phil. Yes. My predecessor died Upon the same day as king Aribert. Urb. How does this chime with your pro- fessed good-will ? Phil. In tune ! A headsman there must always be Urb. Must there indeed ! I am the foe of "must" In things that men control. If need arise I will appoint a headsman, not before. Phil. Three men await the axe, your majesty. Urb. They shall be pardoned, then, to grace this day. Begone, sir ; you have dimmed a burnished hour, And like a death's-head o'er my shoulder peered, 46 SELF'S THE MAN Forecasting woe. [Philadelphus is thrust back aiiio?ig the Rabble.] Phil. I shall be headsmen yet ! JUNL You feel that.? In my ears a sing- ing keeps, "You, too, shall serve the great ones of the earth." Blsh. {laying his hand on the crown). My lord, and king elect Urb. Not yet. {to HiLDEBRAND.) I wish, Before the hallowed crown of Lombardy Convinces me of kingship, to atone The factions, that the state itself And my dominion may be based and reared On one united heart and will. HiLD. I moved The world against you, jealous of my right As a free Lombard ; but since fate decides SELF'S THE MAN 47 For you, I bury in the past all doubt, Antipathy, and malice, there to die And moulder into dust — if you prove true To Lombardy, and the impartial rule Of law-abiding kings. Urb. This for yourself, And those who follow you of every rank ? HiLD. I undertake for all. Lords and Citizens. For all ! Rabble. For all ! Urb. And now, my lord, I beg your daughter's hand As sign and seal of this new amity. \^All are well pleased^ Pasq. a perfect match ! It would delight the world. HiLD. Proudly I welcome it! But she is here, A free maid, and must answer for herself. {fixing his eyes ott OSMUNDA, he leads her to Urban.] 48 SELF'S THE MAN Urb. (Joftily, b?it siveetly enojtg]i). Will you be mine, most high, most beautiful? In sight of men, beneath the eye of heaven, As monarchs may, I woo ; but for myself, Lady, I woo you not ; nor yet as king : I woo you in the name of Lombardy, Because you are most worthy to be queen. OSM. {looks to her father, ivhose eyes are fixed on her ; then quickly to Urban). Not worthy — oh, not worthy ! but in the name Of Lombardy, and to unite the state, I think, my lord, I could bestow my hand. [Urban kisses Osmunda's right hand ; HiLDEBRAND presses her left. OSMUNDA sighs heavily, and cannot conceal Jier distress^ Voice {high and clear at the back of the stage). Saturn ia ! Voice {deep and strong at the back). Ay, ay ! Saturnia ! SELF'S THE MAN 49 Urb. (faintly). Who speaks? Voice {like an echo). Saturnia ! [OSMUNDA shrinks aivay. HiLDEBRAND is mucJi dismayed. URBAN looks with menacing glance at various lords whom he seems to suspect.'] BiSH. These airy calls Assail your conscience, king elect. The world Has watched your amour with the Roman slave Who rules your heart ; the market-haunters jest Of Urban and Saturnia ; lovers brood And hatch a legend for them. Pride of life, Most rank, most salient, speak to me of power And a great nature idling by the way. Is it not so ? The king will leave behind The sins of manhood ? Urb. Else were he no king ! Of manhood's sins and of its virtues too, Outworn apparel, kings divest themselves. Saturnia, I renounce. E 50 SELF'S THE MAN HiLD. A high resolve ! Adal. And sudden ! Paso. Not so sudden, as I know. Three days ago, expecting to be king, He left Saturnia. Voice. Saturnia ! [Urban having doffed his hat, has approached the BiSHOP foi' the coro- nation, hut starts and t?irns at the word "Saturnia." Many voices join in the cry ; it is first taken up by the Rabble, then by the Lords and Citizens.] Enter SATURNIA. She is in her twentyfirst year, but looks older. Her face is full ; the features large, and in repose somewhat harsh ; the eyes are dark grey, gentle in expression, and ivith the depth and significance of yoitth and passion. Her dark broivn hair hangs to her waist. Her voice is deep and sweet. SELF'S THE MAN 51 She ivears a white robe girt with a belt of gold. Saturnia goes at ojtce to URBAN, heed- ing none of the bystanders, ivJio are in- tensely interested. Sat. The terror of the night has driven me here. Urb. You should have stayed at home. Sat. At home ! Why did my home forsake me silently For three long suns and moons ? Urb. You shall be told ; But leave me now. Sat. I dare not leave you now, Lest I should never see your face again. Urb. Some idle fancy has distressed you. Sat. No ! Three times I dream.t you were about to die. A frightened woman clung to you, her arms 52 SELF'S THE MAN Entwined in such a lover's knot as this. \clasps her arms about URBAN 's neck.^ She cried out, " Mercy ! mercy ! " \%vithdraws her arms from Urban's neck.'] Desperately I strained my sight, and watched for her to turn ; But still her countenance was hidden. Urb. Pooh ! A nursery tale of second-sight! l^turns from Saturnia to Pasqual.] Sat. {laying her hand on Urban's arm). Attend ! [Urban faces Saturnia.] Trailing his burnished axe that on the floor Rasped as he strode, the headsman came behind, And touched your shoulder. I could see his eyes Like blood-stained jewels sparkling in his mask. SELF'S THE MAN 53 And there they stood, these three ; more visible Than all this company, and so assigned To terror and the sundering of love, That though the way had been inlaid with fire, I should have trod a passage to my lord To reassure my heart. Urb. {pointing to the crown). A headsman waits Behind me ; but the iron which he wields Augments the stature, sanctifies the life Of him on whom it falls. You find me well. And at the summit of my hopes. {placing Saturnia's ha?id in Pasqual's). Con- duct This lady home. Sat. No ! No ! — Then you are king ! \^She witJidraivs her hand from Pasqual, and looks about her with bent brows, thinking it o?^t.] 54 SELF'S THE MAN The meaning of my dream ? Oh ! It was / That hung about your neck ! The iron crown Is the broad axe to cut you off from me ! But you will never leave me ? Never ? Never ? HiLD. Drag her away ! BiSH. Let not this evil thing Disturb the sweetness of our new accord. [Two Soldiers hj hands on Saturnia.] Sat. Oh ! \iwists herself o?it of the Soldiers' ]iands?[ I will go alone — if lie commands. Urb. Go ! Sat. {starts; sh?idders ; then monrnfiiU)'). Go ! Once it was " come," and always "come." {zuhispering in Urban's ear). One word — one secret word ; then I will go. [Urban and Saturnia come doivn to the front.'] SELF'S THE MAN 55 Dear love, I understand. Before the world You must deny me ; and chastise me too With bitterness and anger, since I came Uncalled, unwelcome, urged by foolish fears. But afterwards ; to-night Urb. {ivithdraws from Saturnia. Aloud). No ; not to-night ; Nor any night. I dare not. Here we part. The house you have, and half my private wealth, I give you that a soul so exquisite May live delightfully ; thus I enshrine My past, endow my youth, and bury love. Even at its clustered prime and fragrant strength. Illustrious in a living tomb, engraved With happy memories for epitaph. Sat. The epitaph of love "i Our love ? No ; no ! I cannot live without you ! 56 SELF'S THE MAN Urb. Jealousy And every hatefulness would gnaw your life After to-day's event. I honour love, And the sweet spirit of the universe ; I honour you, myself, and the true hearts That have exalted me to monarchy, By ending our communion in its flower. Sat. But you will see mc once alone, my lord! Urb. Not once ! I am the king of Lom- bardy. \tnrns /lis back on Saturnia.] Above all love and hate, and good and ill. The monarch, like the sun, on high designs With perfect will intent, moves in his sphere Dispensing light, alone. He cherishes Nothing but his dominion. Saturnia, Whom more than all the world I loved, I tear For ever from my heart. [y4 general viurniur of admiration.'] SELF'S THE MAN 57 Sat. {seems about to fall ; rejects the aid of a Soldier and goes 07it vinttering). He dare not come, He said. I have his love. I hold him yet. [Urban takes Osmunda'S Jiand and leads her to the coronatioji-stone, on zvhich he seats her. Then he lifts the crown from the cushion and crowns hiiuself.~\ Fate has bestowed it on me. Woe to him That touches it ! I, who shall rule, adore This envied land, in purple vintages And golden harvests clad ; adorned and veiled With braided rivers ; thickly studded o'er With hearths that glow ; with famous cities zoned From sea to sea, from Alp to Apennine. I am become this land, this Lombardy ; Its azure waters seem to me my blood ; 58 SELF'S THE MAN Its snowy crests my crown ; and in my heart The Lombards have their home — the quick, the dead, The ancient story and the flying days We'll fill with noble deeds. Ali-. Long live the king! A YEAR ELAPSES ACT II Elixir Vit^ Scene.— r//^ hall of the Royal Palace, Pavia. A large door at the back leads to the city. A similar door on the right opens on the Co2mcil-room. On the left are the entrances to the pidvate apartments. At the back of the hall 07i the left is a cnrtaijied-off re- cess. Windoivs at the back look on a garden terrace, heJiind which ift the distance the city appears. Tapestries and trophies of arms hang on the walls. Near the front on the left a table with several chairs. On the table a chess-board 59 6o SELF'S THE MAN and meft ; a ivme-jar, and goblets of gold and crystal. It is late in the afternoon zvhen the act begins. The snn, setting behind the city, has disappeared by the end of the act ; and the neiv moon, deeply colonred by the sunset, rises fust above the sun. When the curtain rises Almeric and Ulric are discovered playing chess ; and Thrasimund enterhig from the city in the dress of a pilgrim. Thrasimund Juts aged greatly ; stoops ; zvalks ivith a shuffling gait ; smiles often ; his voice qjiavers ; lie is on the verge of dotage. Ulr. a pilgrim ! Alm. Check. [Ulric studies the game.] TllRA. I wish to see the king. Alm. The king receives all comers, scal- lop-shell. SELF'S THE MAN 6i But you must wait a while ; the council sits. Ulr. That passed pawn spoiled my game. I give it up. — What news from Jericho and Istambul ? [AlmeriC and Ulric rise from th6 table, ajid saunter towards Thrasi- MUND.] Alm. Come, we arc idle here. Embroider time With marvels for us. Did you see the eale Whose horns revolve like axle-fitted scythes ; Satyrs and centaurs ; sphinxes ; pigmies ; folk That never die, silent and adder-fed ? Ulr. And how did you escape the leucro- cotta. His cavern mouth, his single jaw-wide tooth. His human voice that cheats the vagabond ? Or that heroic beast the antelope, Who saws down trees and conquers regiments With serried horns, woodman and warrior too ? 62 SELF'S THE MAN Thra. {takes off his hat, and peers at them). Young Almeric, and — Ulric ! Alm. and Ulr. Thrasimund ! Alm. Your garb, your absence, your re- ported death Deceived us both. Ulr. Where have 5'ou travelled, sojourned, Slept and fed, risked life and limb, this year past ? Thra. Back from Jerusalem and many a shrine I come to crave the mercy of the king. Consider: I have pardoned Violante. Alm. Why, then, indeed, the king may pardon you ! Thra. I found her in seclusion, where she wore A novice's attire. She let me see The scourge she used. Time lapses ; fancy shifts ; SELF'S THE MAN 63 Impressions wither ; we are reconciled. Alm. a ballad-ending ! Very wisely done ! Thra. You think the king will see me ? Alm. Certainly. Thra. I wear my pilgrim's garb to fetch his fancy. Alm. Good ! Thra. If humility and penance fail, I have a secret to persuade his grace. Alm. a jewel .^ Thra. No ; an odd discovery. The Pyramid of Life I call the thing, Or the Coeval Angle. Alm. What is that? [Thrasimund takes a btirnished triangu- lar shield from a trophy, and erects it, broad end down, on the table. Ulric lea7ts against the wall watch- ing Thrasimund zvith an amused smile. Almeric attetids gravely.'] 64 SELF'S THE MAN Thra. Here is the symbol of the life of man. \to7LcJiing one point of the base?[ Birth. . . . Let me see now. [silently measures off four equal spaces on either side of the shield.'\ Yes ; this point is birth. [striking the shield at regular intervals one side after the other. 1 The tenth, the twentieth, thirtieth, fortieth, year. The apex of the pyramid divides The fortieth from the fiftieth, you observe. Then fifty files with thirty ; sixty — twenty ; And seventy equals ten ; while fourscore meets The point opposing birth. And now you know The Pyramid of Life, [lays dozvn the shield.'] Alm. By this you mean .-' Thra. The second half of life is sweeter far SELF'S THE MAN 65 Than earlier years. ire-erects the shield and illustrates.'] In climbing up the hill Your back is to the world ; in coming down You take it leisurely and overlook A wide horizon. There is no such thing As old age, therefore. Alm. No ! Thra. That is the soul Of my discovery. Look here, again. Eighty to seventy ; one to ten : you see — The childhoods, first and second. Watch me well. Next : sixty — twenty ; fifty — thirty : youth And early manhood, first and second still. Fifty. . . . There should be properly a plain From thirty on to fifty ; a plateau, The spacious, fertile, double prime of life. Where is old age .? I cannot find its place : Old age is jostled from the Pyramid ; F 66 SELF'S THE MAN The angle's sides are, as it were, coeval ; There is not, never was, and cannot be The living phantom men have called old age. Alm. The true Elixir Vitae known at last ! Thra. Elixir Vitse ? Ah, if that were found ! Alm. To what end since senility is nought. Thra. But there is death ! Aha, boys ! Death chops in. {I'estoi'es the shield to its place on the zva//.] Still my Coeval Angle pleases you. You see the solace of it ; and you think It may amuse the king ? Experience proves That quaint originalities like this Avail with potentates, while solemn views Protract the musty tedium of life. Alm. Courtly discrimination ! Thra. Tell me, now : How does my sorry reputation do ? SELF'S THE MAN 67 Has my misfortune on the election day Worn to a myth ? Alm. No; it is talked of still. Thra. I'll live it down. By heaven, I'll live it down ! Alm. Your reputation will be ruined then. Even for the thing you mourn your name is now The most renowned in Lombardy. Thra. My name ! Alm. As patriot and prophet. Words of yours Ignite their hearts wherever men discuss : — ■ " In Urban you elect a malcontent, Whose aim will be to overturn the state, To rule as despot, and enslave us all." It was a true prediction. In himself Urban has centred all authority. Defiantly and frankly, like a king ! Thra. But Ludolf, Adalbert, and Hildc- brand .'' 68 SELF'S THE MAN Alm. Dismissed, impoverished, and mad with hate. Thra. And you are for the king ? Alm. Yes ; king's men both. Thra. Is the king's party strong ? Alm. The king is strong. Thra. And popular ? Alm. Adored by all his friends. Thra. Ay, but unpopular, you mean to say ? Alm. He tithes the very blades of grass. Thra. For what ? an army ? Alm. Yes. Thra. Whom will he fight ? Alm. That we may know to-day. Thra. The world goes on ! How does he manage, wanting Hildebrand, A warrior of a thousand ? Alm. Garda leads. Thra. The rebel ! Then the world is up- side down ! SELF'S THE MAN 69 And Lucian heads the opposition now ? Alm. No; Hildebrand. Self-exiled on the day Osmunda married Urban, Lucian eats His heart out in Ravenna. Thra. Urban's wife, Daughter to Hildebrand, Urban's enemy ! A diplomat may thrive ! — An heir ? Alm. An heiress. Three weeks ago the queen was brought to bed. Thra. Well; well.— And so they talk of me. Alm. Oh yes ! Your name's a watchword, [Ulric beckons to Almeric, and they talk apai'ti] Thra. {to himself). To abase myself Might prove a wanton waste of self-respect Since fame has so exalted me. This garb 70 SELF'S THE MAN Misfits a popular leader. With the king I must be dignified. — Good-day, young men. My purpose changes ; I shall wash away The stains of travel ere I come to court. \abo2it to go^ Ulr. {detaining Thrasimund). A mo- ment ! How if we could supplement Your famous angle with the Elixir Vitse ! Thra. Elixir Vitae ! My old mouth waters at it ! In Mesopotamia there lived a man Who found it out ; but he by some strange chance Had passed away before I reached his town. Ulr. Mesopotamia calls for no regret. We have it here in Pavia. Thra. The EHxir! Ulr. I can procure a draught of the Elixir. Thra. My hearing sometimes falters. What? SELF'S THE MAN 71 Ulr. I say I can procure a draught of the Eh'xir. Thra. Ha, ha ! Jocose young man ! — Have you it here ? Ulr. It shall be at your service when you choose. Thra. I am not the man I was. Some- thing played snap Inside my skull when Violante's letter Was read before the world. I cannot now, As with my former promptitude, detect Whether your grave demeanour cloaks a jest Or bares an honest purpose. Ulr. Oh, the proof Of puddings and elixirs is the same ! Thra. Why, then I will be credulous till the proof! Procure the draught. The experiment at least May stir my pulse. — I live across the way. 72 SELF'S THE MAN Expect me back as soon as I demit My chrysalis. [opens his pilgrini's gown and slioivs a courtier s dress beneath as he goes 07lt.'\ Alm. He thinks, to change old age, You turn it like a mantle inside out. Ulr. As vapid truths revive by paradox. Alm. How will you compass this .'' Ulr. My scheme matures. [Enter Philadelphus from the city.'] The very broker that the business wants ! Phil. Are there no heads too hot yet for their shoulders? No executioner required to-night? Ulr. The old errand still ! You never seem to tire. Phil. I haunt the palace like an evil genius. SELF'S THE MAN 73 Ulr. And prosecute your canvas every day ? Phil, Save holidays and Sundays every day Since Urban's coronation ! I become An institution : legend marks me out. I revel in a more redoubted name, As indefatigable candidate For the unholy ultimate career Of headsmanship, than if I had cut off Six traitors every week. Ulr. The king remits The final doom. Alm. As despot he does well. His prisons are a nursery of arms; Out of the criminal he hews the soldier : So trims a ragged edge. Ulr. The murderer Can slaughter or be slaughtered, one would think, 74 SELF'S THE MAN Like any other ; and the thief may shine When plunder is the order of the day. Phil. I bide my time. Beside the armoury, In a dark cupboard that the cobwebs drape, The axe, the block, the headsman's dress await me. Ulr. How would you care to play a part meanwhile — Turn a dishonest penny by the hire Of your loquacity? Phil. I never look At two sides of a coin ; for I can make The false go farther than most men the true — Or I were no philosopher ! Ulr. You rogue ! Come after me. You are to personate A wizard, and exhibit life's elixir. Phil. I will exhibit any nostrum, pill, SELF'S THE MAN 75 Or panacea men insist upon ; And I can personate any one you like, Being a compendium of humanity. [Ulric and Philadelphus leave the hall by a private door.] Enter from the Council-roont a miinber of Lords. They go out at the back in tivos and threes, talking as they go. 1ST L. He drills us like a drift of dunces ; talks Engaging generalities ; and laughs Behind our backs. 2ND L. We have a king, my lord ; We have a king ! 3RD L. Who's for the wars, then, who ? 4TH L. I follow still the crowd. 3RD L. Wise man. 4TH L. I've held Before to-day a candle to the devil. 76 SELF'S THE MAN 5TH L. I wish it was this time next year, I do! 6th L. a coward's wish ! Say rather, well begun ! 5TH L. You'll find a puddle in the smoothest road. 6th L, Fear you no puddles. Little wit will serve ; Women and fortune worship fools, you know. \Langliter and all o?it.] Enter from the Coiincil-room Urban, reading a paper. After him Pasqual and the Duke of Garda. Almeric salutes and goes out. Pasq. Will you not give me leave to speak my mind ? Urb. Why so demure ? I ask for nothing else. Yon never found your friend intolerant. SELF'S THE MAN n Gar. Let me speak mine. The word is, up and march ! I know the ^Emih'an way's a Roman road, And excellent travelling too ; nevertheless His majesty may mean Ravenna-wards. But if his purpose were the end of the earth And headlong to the abyss, I am the man To lead his army on ! Urb. Without such men Kings were impossible. Gar. And wanting kings Such men as I are ineffectual. Urb. {giving Garda the paper.) All is set down. Good speed. Until to-morrow. [Garda goes o?/t.] Now, Pasqual, the perplexed, what malady Afflicts your fancy .'* [sits at tJie table.^ Pasq. You are my disease. Ambition like a robe of flame has girt You, shutting out the wholesome world ; and I 78 SELF'S THE MAN Am sick to think my comrade and my king May blaze to ashes in his own desire. Urb. That is the end of all men, whether they be Of wood or adamant ; for in themselves Resides the fire that burns them at the stake Appointed — avarice, ambition, love. Pasq. But you admit no counsel, share your thought With no man. Urb. Ah ! jealous of m}^ design ! Well ; you shall know it first, I swear, old friend. Pasq. Are you not somewhat selfish with your friend ? Urb. Selfish ? Yes ! When I weary of myself And take no joy in Urban, then the world Has ceased to be ! Accept me, for I like you ; SELF'S THE MAN 79 But never hope that you shall understand Me, or the meanest being that can think. And love yourself! Oh, learn to love your- self! Consider how the silent sun is rapt In self-devotion ! All things work for good To them that love themselves. — How shall we spend Our happiness till supper-time ? l^picks lip a chessman.] Pasq. Oh no! You always win. Re-enter Ulric and Philadelphus. Phila- DELPHUS zvears a long- gozon, and is dis- guised in long gi'ey beard and hair. He carries a bag. Urb. Ulric, what masker's this? He has purloined, it seems, the very gait Of Philadelphus. 8o SELF'S THE MAN Ulr. He, your majesty ! He personates an ^Ethiopian mage, And means to doctor Thrasimund with drops Of the Elixir Vitse. Urb. Thrasimund ! Ulr. Returned to-day, a dotard from the East, Affecting youth offensively ; our aim, To make him entertaining, if we may. Urb. Pursue it. I shall watch. Phil. Your majesty Detected my disguise ; but notwithstanding, I think it could beguile a shrewder wit Than his whose vanity we'll titivate. Urb. Try Ahneric. He waits without. [Ulric goes to the door at the back and beckons Almeric] Phil, {goes up stage hwnming). I am the alchemist you wot of ; I couple the antipodes ; SELF'S THE MAN 8i My skill is vaster and more thought of Than Hermes Trismegistus's. [stands at tJie back.^ Ulr. He comes. Re-enter Almeric. Urb. Have you seen Thrasimund ? Alm. Yes, your majesty. Urb. What word of Violante ? Alm. Reconciled. Urb. Better and better ! [Philadelphus comes down stage sloivly, describhig a pentcuic in the air to the right.l Michael of Pavia ! Whom have we here ? Alm. He scribbles in the air. Some fortune-teller, some eccentric cheat. [Philadelphus describes a pentade in the air to the left.'\ G 82 SELF'S THE MAN Expert in gesture, his aerial script Prefigures — mendicancy. Phil, {describing a pentacle in the air in front). Watch me score The mystic pentacle that purges space. Alm. I had forgotten ! Philadelphus ! Well! Phil. " I am the alchemist you wot of." Ulr. Hush ! — Thrasimund ! Alm. Your tackle's ready ? Phil, {opens the bag). See, Every appliance for renewing youth ! Re-enter Thrasimund, dressed in an extrava- gantly youthful style. Urb. Welcome, my lord. Thra. Your majesty ! Have I Your gracious pardon 1 Urb. All the past is dead. Thra. Then am I young already. SELF'S THE MAN 83 Urb. True ; But not so young as you will shortly be. We are prepared, my lord. Greet the re- nowned Egyptian necromancer — what's his name ? — Amen Psammeticus, in exile here By malice of incompetent rivalry. Thra. You know of my experiment, it seems. Urb. I know, approve, admire. Thra. There's no such thing As old age, I maintain ; yet bones grow stiff; Brains, tender ; pulses domptable. Urb. Old age Is doubtless a satirical report Which inexperience foists upon mankind. Nevertheless it may not be amiss That magic should avert such accidents As shedding of the lovelocks and the teeth, 84 SELF'S THE MAN And pale dilution of the sober blood ; For all these things give plausibility To slanders put about by wanton youth. Pasq. It is a shameful thing for age to eke The filthy dregs of stale incontinence. Urb. Yes ; but it's bravery in the breed of men That all should want to live their lives again. Thra. Ah, to be young and fresh, your majesty, With all one's own experience engraved Upon a fertile brain and thumping heart ! Urb. Or even without one's own experience. Saint And sinner willingly would be once more Just what they have been ; in our children too We happily recur to the end of time. Phil, {lias filled a crystal goblet ivith ivine and holds a phial in his hand). Now, all is ready. SELF'S THE MAN 85 Urb. Let me see the Elixir. \takcs the phial from PlIILADELPHUS, a?id zvalks itp stage zvith it, looking at it against the light. PlIILADEL- PHUS folknvs him, and they talk in whispers.'] What action on the wine? Phil. 'Twill turn it blue. Urb. On him? Phil. He'll sleep like twenty for a space. [They return to TllRASIMUND.J Urb. These are the last drops of the Elixir Vitcie Remaining on the earth : never again Will any haggard alchemist compound Potable life ; the secret of it died With the discoverer. What cause, what whim Ordains this dew of youth for you, ask not. 86 SELF'S THE MAN Give thanks, and drink. [Philadelphus holds the goblet, and Urban cinpties the phial into it. The wine immediately becomes blue. Thrasimund is about to take it, hit Urban snatches it away.] Urb. Cerulean cordial ! If I were certain that this crystal held A freehold tenure of time with energy- Instant and inexhaustible! Thra. {clasping and 7inclasping his hands). My liege, You will not surely take it from me now ! Urb. {ignoring Thrasimund). Never to know decay of appetite Thra. Ah ! Urb. The ineffectual nerves, the crumbling thought, The feeble pulses of senility ! Thra. Ay ! SELF'S THE MAN 87 Urb. But to be tensely strung and give response Full-souled to every pang of pleasure and pain ; To be impassioned always and not to die ! Thra. You said it was ordained by fate for me ! Urb. {gives the goblet to ThrasiimuND, ivho gulps the contents). For you ! Drink to the dregs, credulity ! Thra. {nauseates the di'an,ght, and looks rue- fully from one to the other). This is a draught of death ! You have poisoned me ! \^He becomes nnconscious. Ulric and Almeric place him in a chair, and Philadelphus operates immediately, Ulric and Almeric handing him from the bag, scissors, razor, soap, ronge, and everything necessary for the change.'] 88 SELF'S THE MAN Pasq. How pitiful ! And how can you permit Your leisure so invidious a sport ? Urb. Why, this is nothing ! When Medea turned An old man young again she chopped him up, And boiled him in a caldron for a week. Pasq. Pardon my thinking it is idly done : You will regret it. Urb. Never, friend of mine, Even if it were iniquity. Regrets Of all remorseful people in the world. What are they when the morning comes again, And every heart-beat wakes a virgin future ! I hear the moments fathom the abyss, From which no power can ever haul them up. Why lug about the memory of the past? SELF'S THE MAN 89 Make a clean mind of it ! Say, alchemist, Do you indulge in vain regrets? Phil, {busy zvith Thrasimund's face). Not I! Pasq. Have you endured no bitter grief? Phil. Oh yes! Pasq. Done anything to be called wrong ? Phil. I have. Pasq. And played the fool perhaps } Phil. More than enough. Pasq. How can you say, then, you have no regrets ! Urb. He has another use for his mishaps Than to regret them. Pasq. What may that be ? Urb. Why, To digest them, Pasqual. Hence have we brains ! A mental mastication, slow and sure. Eupeptic consciences and wilful blood go SELF'S THE MAN Transform our blunders to experience, sinew And staple of all wisdom. [Philadelphus stands aside and reveals the rejuvenated Thrasimund. His beard has been shaved off; his hair and moustache dyed red ; his eye- brows soaped; and his cheeks rongedi\ Urb. Handsome youth! A shade too florid ; but colour is convincing. Send for his wife and we shall see them meet. [Philadelphus and Almeric carry Thrasimund in Ids chair to the recess at the back, and he is hidden behind the curtain. Ulric takes the message to ViOLANTE.] Enter JUNIPERT, gaily dressed. JUNI. Salute, your majesty ! SELF'S THE MAN 91 Alm. What is your name, And business ? Phil. An astucity of ours, Magicians, necromancers, is to know The names of chance-companions. His, I think. Is Junipert. JUNL It is. My business, now? Alri. Come, sorcerer. Phil. His business ? That profane Unprofitable art of poem-making. JUNI. My business with the king, I mean. Phil. Oh, that! You come upon Saturnia's behalf, Who saved you from a beggary more base By making you her laureate, Junipert. Junl All this the world may hear from envious tongues. Can you announce my mistress's affair .'' 92 SELF'S THE MAN Phil. That you are here to tell — and luckily ; For my prophetic frenzy ends at once. Urb. Well, sir ? JUNL I have the honour to appear For the forlorn, divine Saturnia, Queen of the Lombards. Having newly learned That Lombardy is on the eve of war, She craves an audience of your majesty To bid farewell. Urb. When did Saturnia Become a queen ? JUNL Upon your wedding-day. Phil. Very poetical ! Pasq. My lord.? Ure. Yes, friend. Pasq. Give her no audience. Urb. Did you know of this? Pasq. I did. Indoors she keeps a pagan state, SELF'S THE MAN 93 But never moves abroad. Urb. And I, untold ! I must have spies, it seems ! — spies, and a headsman ! Say to Saturnia Urban grants her vi^ish. Pasq. Your majesty Urb. Now, you are meddlesome. Not since we parted has she brought herself In any way at all to my remembrance. Doubt not, since now she does so, she obeys Some clear necessity. JUNI. I humbly thank Your majesty. My mistress will set out As soon as I return. Urb. {softly to hiinself). Saturnia, Queen of the Lombards. l^goes out by a private door. Pasqual goes out towards the city.] JUNI. Have you by any chance A brother in the town, called Philadelphus ? 94 SELF'S THE MAN Phil. Augmenting daily a prodigious fame By diligent pursuit of what he wants ; A great philosopher? JUNL He calls himself Philosopher ; notorious too, he is, For some absurdity. Phil. Notorious be it. I know him very well ; a noble fellow. JUNL I never liked the man at all. Phil. No .? Well ; I shall go with you, and tell you certain truths About yourself will make you like him less. \They go out together?^ Enter Hildebrand. Alinl {astonished to see him). Good day, my lord. HiLD. Does the queen leave her room ? Alm. I cannot tell ; but here is nurse who can. SELF'S THE MAN 95 Enter Nurse. HiLD. How is my grandchild ? Nurse. Very well, my lord. Heaven bless your lordship ! You are a stranger here ; But births compose old quarrels. [HiLDEBRAND shoivs displeasure.'] For her eyes — As like her father's as a pair of beads ; And such a handsome nose ! I think we know From whom your lordship's grandchild takes her nose ! And noticing already ! Enter two Men-servants ivitJi cushions and shaivls. They cross the hall to the back, tJie Nurse nodding approval. HiLD. And the queen's health ? 96 SELF'S THE MAN Nurse. Oh, wonderful ! Her grace will take the air To-day for the first time. Servant. Where shall we put them? Nurse. Under the chestnut, by the bed of pinks, Beside the carp-pond. I must see myself! The queen will come immediately, my lord. l^goes out, preceded by the Men-servants.] HiLD. Go after them. Alm. I am in attendance here. HiLD. Attend without, then ! I would be alone With the king's wife, my daughter. [Almeric goes out sullenly^ Euter OSMUNDA, attended by Ladies, one of whom carries Sybil. OSM. {surprised and gratified). Happily — Most happily ! My first encounter, father ! SELF'S THE MAN 97 HiLD. Sweet peace betide you ; joy and all delight! [T/iej' are both embarrassed. At last OSMUNDA leads her father by the hand to the Lady zvho carries Sybil.] Your child, my dear ? OSM. My child ! She is asleep. Oh, you should see her eyes ! like sapphire lamps Burning with sacred fire ! They laugh at me ; But I am sure she knew me yesterday. \accompanies the Ladies out, and returns immediately.^ You wish to see the king ? You will be friends ? HiLD. Do you desire it ? OSM. Why am I his wife ? HiLD. That was my fault and folly. And I come II 98 SELF'S THE MAN To beg my daughter's pardon, now, at last. OSM. Oh, sir, beg no one's pardon ! Be yourself ! HiLD. I am myself now truly ; and what amends May yet be wrung from destiny, I mean To gladden you withal. \TJiey sit?^ The king has thrust The state aside like useless lumber ; rears Himself alone in front of Lombardy, Dazzling the foolish world. Furbished, equipped. And amply manned, by stealth and unpro- voked. Against the Franks he marches forth to- morrow. OSM. Against the Franks! HiLD. It is reported so. Their new king, Pepin, has made a name in war. SELF'S THE MAN 99 And Urban is envious. But some of us Who cherish peace and reverence law, will choke This outrage ere it issue to the light. OSM. What do you mean ? HiLD. You must know all in time ; This, now : We shall proclaim our Lucian king ; You, regent. OSM. Regent — king ! while Urban lives ? HiLD. {rises; deliberately). No. OSM. {rises, and witlidraivs from her father). You would not murder him ! HiLD. We shall do No murder. Urban is the rebel ; we, His peers, have sat in judgment. All my friends Await us at my house. Thither I go. Come after with your daughter, openly. OSM. My father plots against my husband's life! loo SELF'S THE MAN HiLD. What ! would you spare a husband you abhor ? [^-/-asps her hand.'] Do what I say. OSM. I will not do this thing. HiLD. Will not ! Osnnunda ! \i^eleas€s hei' hand, and speaks persuasively, imploringly^ But I hide the heart Of my desire. Not for a jealous clique, Not to crown Lucian, nor avenge your wrongs Or my defeat, have I in prudent age And the dispassionate temper time implants, Belied my judgment, strangled every birth Of conscience, fertile yet as the fresh ground In times Saturnian, though blood be stale And life at ebb ; but I have gagged my thought, Tarnished the silver of the years myself In reverence held, for you and for your child, My blood, that it may reign in Lombardy. SELF'S THE MAN loi Lucian ? — a stalking-horse ! And step by step, Ruse upon ruse, as studied and secure As any gambit, have I planned it out To make my grandchild queen. This perfect plot Was nurtured in my brain while in your womb Your daughter grew ; and their affinity Is indestructible : the plot, the child, Are one ; my blood, my brain. Throughout these months Of impotence, dishonour, nothingness, The infamy and canker of defeat, By this design transmuted, seemed to me Renown and health. My daughter dare not thwart me ! OSM. I am a wife ; and to the king, my husband, I will be loyal : a mother, and Urban's child Shall never say that I deceived her father I02 SELF'S THE MAN Even for my father's sake. [siis again, trembling at the direct conflict ivith her father.^ HiLD. You will not come ! OsM. {rises ; beseechingly). Oh, escape This cruel goad of power ! Stay here by me : The plot will melt away if you withdraw. Stay by me all the evening ; sleep here to-night ; And in the morning this will be a dream. HiLD. And leave my daughter, whom I offered up On the stained altar of a loveless bed, A nightly victim, while my stricken soul Discerns its guilt, and grasps expedient means Of reparation and deliverance ! OSM. I am contented — happy, as I am. HiLD. It is your weakness speaks ! When Urban dies. Your true love Lucian, for a time, perhaps SELF'S THE MAN 103 OSM. This is to tempt — to tempt ! The king must know ! \r2ms to the door of the Cotmcil-room, and opening it, looks inP[ Not here !— What shall I do ? HiLD. {to himself). At fault ! at fault ! Now must I act at once! Leave her in doubt — I know her nature — she will fear to speak. — Truly, Osmunda, my conspiracy Is rooted in your will. You cast it out ; It dies, and as I say it, disappears Into the limbo of abortive things. If I have hurt you yet it was for you I chiefly wrought. Forget it. OSM. You will stay ? HiLD. Stay ? OSM. Yes, with me until to-morrow, HiLD. No ; I must instruct my friends, or they may move 104 SELF'S THE MAN Without me to disaster. OSM. Stay by me ! HiLD. I cannot. Rest in peace. All shall be well. [.^^'^-y ' [Enter the DuKE OF Garda. Soldiers /// ?// the doorway^ The glorious world that death had swallowed up Rises about me like a thronging tide. I stand upon the summit : life begins Anew, heroic deeds and high renown ! Gard. And your deliverer [The Soldiers open a passage, and Osmund A enters, dis J levelled and pale."] This heroine ! Urb. (pressing his wound and speaking ivith difficulty) . O s m u n d a ! 154 SELF'S THE MAN OSM. {to Garda). No, my lord ! 'tis you have saved My husband's life. Sat. {stepping from behind the door). This is my husband ; death united us. [Urban looks from Osmund a to Saturn lA, from Saturnia to OSMUNDA ; seems abo7it to speak; staggers and falls.^ Sat. {kneeling beside Urban). He is wounded ! Thrasimund Poniarded him. Help me ! {^As the curtain falls OSMUNDA is staring at SATURN I A, who supports Urban 's head on her bosom. 1 THREE WEEKS ELAPSE. ACT IV Osmunda's Pomander Scene, — Urban's study iti the Palace of Pavia. At the back a large tivo-leaved ivindow, brushed by the branches of a tall lime tree. The ivindow is draped. On the left, in a high and deep fireplace, a fire of ivood biims. An oaken screen ex to ids from the upper side of the fireplace, across a portion of the room. A curtain, on a rod joined to the screen, sliuts off tJie fireplace except in front ; but ivhen the act opens this is folded back. In front of the screen, a couch and small table with reading-lamp. 0?i the right is a table with documents and writi?ig materials ; 155 156 SELF'S THE MAN beside it a large chair ; against the ivall a sideboard zvith glasses, etc. There are four alcoves in the wall, containing parcJuncnts, scrolls, etc. ; and above the alcoves, niches with busts of Alexander the Great, Ccesar, Hannibal, and Alboin. There are doors rigJit and left; and an nnseen entrance beliind the screen. It is nig] it when the act begins; the ivindow is open ; and the zvaning moon shines through the brandies of the lime tree. OSMUNDA, wor7i out with mirsing Urban, is lying on the couch. She has been reading, and has laid her book open on the table. The physician enters as the curtain rises. OSM. The king is dressing. Phy. What ! OsM. He says he must. SELF'S THE MAN 157 Phy. It means his life ! Delirious strength will waste Him in an hour. His wound will recrudesce And suppurate. Why am I not obeyed .'' OSM. {rises). You have been obeyed. The king's delirium Is spent ; his thought coherent ; and his eyes, That roamed like ruined light, become again The sentinels of reason. Phy. Then he slept At last? OsM. I was beside him when he fell Asleep, my little Sybil in my arms. Which was the gentler sleeper, more at home In the benighted land of slumber, I Essayed in vain to tell. [steps are heard behind the screen^ Here is the king. I shall not see him unless he asks for me. [goes out.'] 1S8 SELF'S THE MAN Enter Urban, leaning on Pasqual's shoulder. He is haggard and iveak. Phy. I trust your majesty, debating well Ability and inclination, found Your strength to rise equal to your desire : To leave your bed so soon is perilous. Urb. The peril is my own, the praise is yours If I resume the hardihood to risk Relapse ; but I adventure nothing ; weak [sits in the large chair.l As water, yet I feel the founts of life Break out again, with murmured prophesies Of dazzling days and nights of wonderment. I must have music ! Bid the minstrels play. Phy. I shall instruct them. Music is the stalk And flower of health, and most remedial. [about to go.] SELF'S THE MAN 159 Pasq. {whispering). He presses me for news. What shall I say ? Phy. {whispering). Say all, judiciously. 'Twill fret him more To mark evasion than to know the worst. [goes oiit.^ Urb. Three weeks, you say, at death's door. Pasq. I maintain The blade was poisoned. Urb. Oh, impossible ! Pasq. But so inept a wound itself approached Your life no nearer than a thorn-prick would. Urb. I am sure there was no poison : simplest wounds That miss the first intention smoulder long. And now the news. Three weeks behind the times ! The news ! This unknown remnant of the past i6o SELF'S THE MAN Is like a caul about me. Till I know The best and worst I am as one unborn Why do you not begin and tell me all ? You said I must not think till I had strength To rise. I have risen. [M?isic is /leard.] Ah ! the minstrelsy ! To such a melody a soul might sing In torment, smiling and at ease. — The news ! I have a sure presentiment of ill : Rehearse your story while the music lasts. Why are you silent ? Where is Saturnia .-* Pasq. Saturnia .? It was the queen who plucked You, bleeding, from a ring of thirsty swords. And with her tender and importunate care Recaptured for the world your fleeting life. Urb. She is a noble lady, certainly. Where is Saturnia ? Pasq. I cannot tell. But I have baffling news of Lombardy. SELF'S THE MAN i6i Satiirnia's fate is insignificant. Urb. {starting from his seat). Satiirnia's fate ! What have you done with her ? \ci'osses the room hastily and opens a door.] Give over there ! The strings are raw ; the tune Insane. [JInsic ceases si/dden/j.] What is her fate ? Pasq. I cannot tell. Urb. You cannot tell > You mean that she is dead ! Whoever dared to touch the life of her Who was to me the hallowed shrine of youth, Of love, of beauty, the ethereal part Of the world's delicacy, shall be killed By some new death of Eastern cruelty Exceeding fancy. — Is Saturnia dead? Pasq. I cannot tell. Urb. Who can ? Who knows her fate ? M i62 SELF'S THE MAN Answer me on your life. Pasq. The queen. Urb. The queen ! A woman's vengeance. Bid her come to me. No ; she shall be unprepared, [opens the door.'] Desire the queen [Re-enter OsMUNDA.] Ah ! you have overheard. OSM. No, as I live ! I kept in call lest you should need my help. Urb. Give me your arm. Look at me — in the eyes. Where is Saturnia ? OSM. In a nunnery. Urb. Not dead ? OSM. Oh no ! Urb. The convent of St. Ann's .-• [OsMUNDA assents?^ Who placed her there ? SELF'S THE MAN 163 OSM. I did. Urb. Why did you so ? OSM. In the name of justice, and for my own weal, And my daughter's. Urb. Yes. . . . Give order now For her release. OSM. I cannot. Urb. Cannot ! Why ? OSM. {to Pasqual). Have you not told } Pasq. He would not listen to me. Urb. I listen now. Pasq. Hildebrand and his gang Of malcontents fled to Ravenna. . . . [iLesitates.^ Urb. Well ? Go on ! These timorous delays are wounds Deeper than steel can trench. Say all ; strike home. Pasq. To say it all is to strike home indeed ! i64 SELF'S THE MAN Lucian is King of Lombardy. Urb. Lucian ! I understand you very well, I know. You say worse than the worst by the world's width To make the ill seem good. Pasq. I have said the truth. Lucian with allies of Ravenna, and all The Lombard rebels, overthrew your men, Followed the Duke of Garda to the gates Of Pavia, which he now besieges ; took The royal title, and like a gamester sets A tempting price upon your head. Urb. a price Upon my head ! How much ? Pasq. Ten thousand crowns. Urb. My helmet cost me more ! — But is it true ? Is Pavia besieged ? Pasq. I said besieged ; SELFS THE MAN 165 But our defeat is heavier than that : Pavia is taken. Nothing remains to us Except the palace. Urb. {rises, staggers, and chitcJies the screen). Nothing. Pasq. And our hearts. Urb. Once on a time the broad earth was my room. Between the curtains of the day and night I strode from east to west, and hourly held Communion with my great imaginings ; And now this prison is the only space That's left me in a universe of worlds ! A dying rat is happier in his hole ! Had I a star to go to, even a waste Abandoned orb, that fallen spirits shun, My soul could live at ease. Nothing is mine Without my kingdom ! [sinks on couch, — A knocking is heard.] Enter, herald ! Cry i66 SELF'S THE MAN The news that's knocking at my heart ! Enter Philadelphus and JUNirERT. JuNl- PERT has been drinking^ and walks nn- steadilj'. He keeps behind PHILADELPHUS. Phil. The king ! Pasq. Why are you in the palace, Phila- delphus ? Phil. We came this morning, Junipert and I, The last to enter ere the gates were closed. I am playing cicerone to the poet. — Come, Junipert. The lobby was our way. Pasq. But why desert the winning side ? Phil. Which side Is that, my lord ? The palace will endure A three months' siege at least ; and chance and change Are most empirical philosophers. Urb. {rises from the couch). Three months ! Why, in three months I could create SELF'S THE MAN 167 A kingdom ! All is well — better than well ! These golden drops of time, good alchemist, Are the elixir of our immortal fame. Phil. Time is the elixir of all mundane things. Urb. I shall command in person. [crosses the room, maintaining zvith diffi- culty an erect carriage.] Pasq. You cannot go ! Urb. {thrustitig aivay PasquAL, who has offered help). I need no arm to lean on. I am king : Disease and death are subject to me. Come ! To-night an onslaught in the dark shall sweep Our hasty rebels over Pavia's walls, Like blood-stained leaves before the whirling north. [goes out, folloived anxiously by Os- MUNDA and PASQUAL. JUNIPERT takes a leathern bottle from under i68 SELF'S THE MAN Jiis cloak a7id drinks. He lays the bottle on the ivindoiv-sill, removes his cloak, and steps out 07i the ledge. Then he gets into the branches of the tree, shakes it, and peers dozun.] Phil. I'm not a gymnast ! If you fall, remember, There's no one here to dive and fetch you up. Air is to breathe, not swim in. (to himself). Drunken ape ! But something's in his head besides the wine. [JUNIPERT tumbles into the i'ooni.'\ You have escaped ! Then clearly you were born To die in bed. [JUNlPERT^v/^ 7ip, secures his bottle, drinks from it, and hands it to PlilLADEL- PHUS, zvho replaces the stopper before putting it to his mouth.l Phil. This is the way to drink — SELF'S THE MAN 169 The philosophic way. [seems to take a long pull.'\ JUNI. Stupendous lungs ! Stop, selfish drunkard ! Phil. Oh, there's some left yet! [I'eturns the bottle to JUNIPERT.] JUNL I'll soon test that. [puts the bottle to his month, expecting only a feiv drops, and is almost choked. The ivine ponrs over his face and clothes. He looks at, and into the bottle, mystijied?^ I drank the half of it ; You drank the other half, and yet it seemed Half full and more just now ! The devil's in it ! [flings the bottle out of zvindoiv.'] Phil. It was, indeed, a bottle and a half! JUNI. {sits in the chair). Sit, Philadelphus — here in the chair beside me. [Philadelphus sits beside hiin.'\ I70 SELF'S THE MAN You know I am a poet ; now, a poet Is all things to all men Phil. No, Junipert. JUNL And nothing to himself. Phil. No, Junipert ; That's the philosopher. JUNL Philosopher? But what I want to say I'm aiming at. True, I've been drinking — not without a motive ; Not for the sake of drinking, understand. No, my objective as a drunkard is — Courage. Phil. What need have you for extra courage .'* Junl I have invented a prodigious plot Which I am executing now. Phil. I see, Junl Being what I am I need a con- fidant. SELF'S THE MAN 171 Why should a man be burdened with a gift Of utterance if he's not to utter, — hey ? Phil. Or with the gift of thirst and not to drink. JUNI. Veracity intact ! I'll write it down. [takes out Ids tablets and ivrites. Then turns over a leaf or iivo.'\ Here is the draft of it. Phil. Of what ? JUNI. The letter. Phil. What letter? J UNI. Read it — read it out aloud. Phil, {reading from JUNIPERT's tablets). " Come to me to-night. My heart "... Who is the subscriber .'' {turns over a leaf). Os- munda ! — " Come to me to-night. My heart — my pride is broken. I suffer every misery a husband can inflict upon a wife he hates. I shall die long before the palace yields if I am not delivered from this hourly torture." . . . 172 SELF'S THE MAN What follows here, all interlined ? J UNI. (in vain endeavours to decipher his oivn writing). Minute Instructions how to enter by the tree At midnight. Phil. Yes, but who ? JUNL Lucian, of course. I copied it in scripture feminine, And Lucian had it yesterday. I climbed Into the tree to try its wooden strength, Half hoping he might fall and break his neck : 'Twill bear him sober since it bore me drunk. So here I hide, and when he enters — plump, \taking a knife f/oni his bosom.'] This dagger's in his heart ! Phil. Oh, well contrived! JUNL Poor Lucian dead, the rebels slink away ; SELF'S THE MAN 173 Osmunda's infidelity appears By my epistle ; Urban divorces her, And marries his beloved Saturnia — My muse and goddess who ascends the throne Across my lost soul, damn you, Philadel- phus ! Consummate plot ! As certain as the dawn ! Oho ! the poet's always misconceived I The poet's eminently practical ! \^falls out of the cJiair and rolls over asleep.'] Phil. Friend Junipert, your plot is beauti- ful ; You forge and kill that she whom you adore May marry some one else. Most practical ! Observe my plot now, the philosopher's. Oh, I've a plot ! More intimate am I With this old palace, dungeon and battle- ment, 174 SELF'S THE MAN Than all its deepest denizens, the rats, Or long-lived crows that whet their beaks above : Day in, day out, I searched it for a year. To-night, in secret, by a way I know, Enter, who ? — Hildebrand and Thrasimund ! A philosophical conspiracy ! You grant humanity consists of men ? I am a man ; so when I serve myself I serve humanity. To-morrow, freed By Urban's death, the Lombards toss their caps For despotism o'erthrown — humanity In the abstract served by me ; while I re- ceive Ten thousand golden crowns— humanity In substance served supremely by itself. I think my name is fixed in history now ! {at the door). Help, here ! SELF'S THE MAN 175 Enter Soldier. Sol. What's this? Phil. You see. [PiilLADELPiius and the Soldier raise JUNIPERT.] JUNL Saturnia ! {They take JUNIPERT out betzveen thejii.'] Re-enter Urban, supported by the DuKE OF Garda and PasquaL, and folloived by OSMUNDA= Urb. Here, on the couch. I am stronger than I seem. \lies doivn 071 the coiichJ] To-morrow I will head a sortie. Garda, The scheme of your defence is masterly. But go to bed : you have most need of rest. I too shall sleep an hour, Pasqual can watch ; Then, I : so shall your mind have full repose. Good night. [Garda and Pasqual go out.] Osmunda. 176 SELF'S THE MAN OSM. Yes. Urb. What is the hour ? OSM, Midnight, or near it. Urb. Time to sleep. Good night. Sleep — you must sleep. To-morrow we shall talk. [OSMUNDA is re/h'cfant to leave him. She lifts the lamp as if to take it with her.'\ No ; leave the light. [OSAIUNDA replaces the lamp.'] What were you reading? [takes tip the book.'] Ah! The life of Agis : genius against the world. Something of me, there ; something of my fate. To-morrow — we shall try to understand. [OsMUNDA goes out slozvly.'] Genius against the world. ... I should have made Saturnia my wife. There was a gauntlet SELF'S THE MAN 177 In the brazen face of custom ! . . . But I feared . . . Is this my body's weakness ? No ; great men Betray no fault of instinct, no distress Of soul, no doubt of self in their infirmities : But here am I, confronted with my heart At last, a simpleton, maybe a knave ! To laugh at policy, to over-ride Wisdom, authority, experience. To break with all the ragged past, and be The demiurge of order and a time Stamped with my image — is to chafe Mankind, and mark my power and daring, carved In deep amazement and a world-wide frown, Is to read triumph in a storm of hate. But to espouse my mother's maid, a slave. Already mine, as everybody knew ? Oh, no ! the hero dreads a meaning smile. The lifted shoulder and the current jest — N 178 SELF'S THE MAN " The king ? Our Urban ? What can you expect ? He took to wife his mistress ! " There I am ! There is the specious magnanimity That tossed away a fortune ; impotence Pretending royal immunity — to lull The inward sting, and shirk the stress of life. I should have married her I love, because / love as lovers and as women love ; No pastime, but my life. Then had my strength Been matched with loyal fate on equal terms ; But having done dishonour to myself In the great passion by which the world endures, A bridge without a keystone, all my hopes Crumble to dust and vanish in the gulf. . . . To-morrow in the battle I can die. [s/eeps.] SELF'S THE MAN 179 Re-enter OSMUNDA. SJie looks about interroga- tively ; crosses to the couch and bends over Urban. Then she unfolds the curtain and sits on the chair. LUCIAN appears in the tree. OSM. He must have spoken in his sleep. \A clock strikes. She counts the Iiour listlessly.~\ One . . . twelve. [LUCIAN enters by the zuindow. His appearance, manner, voice are nozv those of a man of resolutioji and hardihood. OSMUNDA titters a smothered scream on seeing LuciAN, and signs to him to he silent. LUCIAN takes her hand and leads her to the zuindozv.] Urb. {dreaming) A hideous blow ! . . . Saturnia ! Luc. {giving OsMUNDA a letter). It is not i8o SELF'S THE MAN Your writing ; but I came because a way- Was shown me. OsM. {reading the letter.) Traitors in the palace ! Luc. No ; A deliverer ! \j>uts /lis arm about her, and draws her nearer the ivindoiv.'] OsM. Lucian ! so tyrannous ! Luc. No way for me but to be tyrannous ; 'Tis cowardly to say, " Thus fate ordained ! " Defeated men must fester in disgrace, Or cut their throats, or die contending still : I learnt that verdict in the bitter loss Of you : yet by a miracle I now Revoke it, and outroot the tangled wrong My vacillation wrought. — Come. OSM. {returning the letter). But }'ou know This writing is not mine ! Luc. It says the truth, SELF'S THE MAN l8l Whoever wrote it. Oh, I heard the whole IHad of misery ; the petty spite, The indignities, the mortifying scorn Your husband deals you. OSM. Not one word is true ! Luc. Your father told me all. OSM. He lied who said My husband scorned me. Luc. Then your father lied, And laced the lie with oaths. — You love your husband } Do you love Urban ? Urb. {dreaming). Her neck is like a lily. Luc. This is no time to stand on wooing terms ! Answer directly. Did you marry Urban To please your father, or did your father lie In that confession too ? OSM. That was no lie. i82 SELF'S THE MAN Luc. You loved me when you married Urban ? Speak ! / was disloyal to myself and you. Were yon unfaithful ? OSM. {faintly). To myself and you. Luc. Then must we end this infamy, and break The prison of our love. Your father's roof Shall shelter you ; and you shall be my wife, When I have dragged this Urban from his hold, And thrust him headless in unhallowed ground. \iuith one foot on the ivindow-ledge, one hand on the tree, and the other on Osmunda's arm?^ Fear nothing : 'tis the tree of life ! OSM. {recoiling). No ! no ! Urb. {dreaming). Remember, headsman ; together, with one stroke. [starts up awake; and, hearing Os- M UN da's voice, listens motionless.'] SELF'S THE MAN 183 OSM. Oh, Lucian, leave me to make up my mind Alone ! My father's ill-used power compelled My spirit once ; and now you and my love Drive me beyond myself. I must assure My heart, unmoved by the profound control Of yours beside me beating, that my choice To-night is my oivn will. Leave me alone. Luc. And if I do, how shall I know your choice ? OSM. The window — I shall open it again. Luc. But you have grown in power ! . . . Decide alone. [goes otit by the tvindow, which Os- MUNDA immediately closes. She then fills a glass zvith water, places it on the table, and drops into it the poison from her pomander, which, after dissolving, leaves the water colojirless. Urban watches her.] i84 SELF'S THE MAN OSM. This is the choice— my husband, death, or love. Not life; I thought I chose that once, but found Only a husband : women have no life. I was, I am my husband's : shall I pass From one man to another like a slave That must belong to somebody? Blind love Would have me Lucian's : were Lucian by my side I could not bid him go again without me ! That was a conquest ! \i-aises the glass.] And should I so decide This will maintain my victory over love ! [replaces the glass ; sits."] Now, let me choose. My husband, death, or love ? \rises slowly ; crosses the room, and lays her hand on the c?irtain. URBAN keeps out of sight.'] SELF'S THE MAN 185 I will not, dare not leave this beaten man ; Conspire his downfall, triumph in his death, And reign his conqueror's bride. Here lies my fate, My woman's duty ; here, my peace of mind ! \_Jlings the curtain aside and starts back zvith a cry on seeing URBAN.] Urb. What poison's this ? What tragedy, bestowed And slumbering in your marriage-bed, awakes Uncoils and wonders where to strike ? How long Has death been consort of your thoughts ? I deemed You still the tender woman men are taueht To prize most for a mate ; whose love takes heart With marriage only ; and whose child acquits The pensive shame that haunts her sweet desires. i86 SELF'S THE MAN OSM. The woman never jealous, who for- gives The unrepentant, loves the sinner more ; The fabulous sweet monster men solace Their self-conceit with ! There are none such. Urban ! I, least of all, approach the inhuman thing Your fancy fondled. . . . Shall I say it all? Urb. Though it should flay my soul OSM. {handling her pomander). This venom, fetched By castaways from shores beyond the dawn Where all the region is a labyrinth Of wonders, Hildebrand gave to his wife Upon her wedding-morn ; for then the fate Of Lombard women shook in the rough scales Of war. My mother passed the gift to me ; And at my girdle it has always hung, A treasured keepsake and the shrine of death. SELF'S THE MAN 187 At your election when you donned the crown, And spoke your well-considered speech, I grasped This fragrant casket, and beheld myself Dead in my smooth and stainless wedding- sheets, A virgin bride beyond the bridegroom's power To waken with a whisper. Lucian's love And mine seemed greater than the world, than life, Power and the name of queen ; marriage with you. Warm from a harlot's bed — a common shame That women undergo — appeared as foul As to be shackled to a leper maimed And mildewed with his malady. And yet I was so weak I did not dare to die. Urb. So strong, I think. — You hid your hate of me ? i88 SELF'S THE MAN OSM. It vanished with your kisses, Urban. Why Are we poor women made so ! Urb. Til at the world May never cease. — You learned to love me then ? OSM. I thought so ; you were gentle and abashed ; Observed my moods ; and so devoutly begged Where you might take, that with my body soon I worshipped you. How could I help it, Urban ? Urb. But it was not love ? OSM. No ; not like my love For Lucian — now, I know. Urb. How came he here ? OSM. I scarcely understand. Not with my will ! Urban! You cannot think SELF'S THE MAN 1S9 Urb. Nothing of you I think except divinely. Enter Nurse from behind the screen. OSM. What do you want ? Nurse. I'm sure the child's bewitched ; It tosses, sobs, and knits its brows and stares. [OsMUNDA motions her azuay.'] You bade me call you if it would not rest Urb. Go to our child. OSM. And come again to you When she has fallen asleep? Urb. Yes, come to me. [OSMUNDA ajid the Nurse go out. Urban, fascinated by the poison, raises the glass ^^ Was this poured out for me ? A draught of death, The only true elixir ! I have filled igo SELF'S THE MAN The land with woe — carnage, and fire and mourning ; And for a dream troubled the lives of women Who gave me love and duty ! That I, who left My foes unwatched, and made a laughing- stock Of him I should have won at any cost, Or promptly killed — \la2tghs ruefully^ That I must set about To reconstruct the world ! — If I drink this It shall appear I overtaxed my strength And died expectedly. . . . \takes a glass from the sideboard ; potirs tuater into it, and places it instead of the poisoned one?\ She must not know, were I to do this thing. . . . \opens the zuindozu.^ That was her signal. Lucian . . . What is best ? SELF'S THE MAN 191 Saturnia. ... I must not think of her. [is standing behind the leaf of the ivindoiv, looking at the glass against the light. LUCIAN, re-entering by the zvindow, thrusts the leaf against Urban's arm, and the glass falls. LUCIAN does not hear the crash, as his sword clanks on the zvindoiv-sill ; he goes a feiv steps into tlie room, and meets Osmunda, luho re-enters from behind the screen, alarmed by the noise.^ Luc. Osmunda, mine in love and deed ! OSM. No! No! Luc. Why is your window open ? You shall not Repent ! OSM. I did not open it. But where Is Urban ? Have you killed him ? Urb. (stepping from the zvindoza). I am here. 192 SELF'S THE MAN ^ Luc. Mine, and the world's rash enemy ! Urb. The world Will never beat a better-tempered foe. [LuciAN attacks. URBAN is poiuerless to resist him^ OSM. Lucian ! For shame ! Look, he can hardly stand. Re-enter Philadelphus iLshering HiLDE- BRAND, TlIRASIMUND, LUDOLF, ADAL- BERT, Lords and Soldiers. Except PHILA- DELPHUS, all stare astonished ''at LuciAN, who is equally surprised. Voices. The king ! Urb. {under his breath). The king. Luc. What mystery is this ? Phil. I know the origin of both your wonders. Thra. That can be told again. Now, Lombards, strike SELF'S THE MAN 193 For liberty ! [Urban is attacked?^ OSM. {hanging on Hildebrand's arm). Oh, father, spare his life ! HiLD. {flinging OSMUNDA aside). I have no child until his blood be shed. OSM. No child! {lifts the glass and holds it up. All look at her inqniringly?\ This is my weapon ! I hold a poison here That kills like lightning. If one blow be struck I drink and die. {to Lucian). Give me my husband's life ! Urb. Oh tenderest conscience, there your poison lies ! {points to the broken glass and tJicn to that in her hand.'\ That is as innocent as your fair soul — Think what you please. Have at me ! This is best ! O 194 SELF'S THE MAN I shall die fighting with my back to the wall. [Urban is again attacked, and his sword struck from Jiis hand at once. He steps forward to meet their points. OSMUNDA, desperate, drags LUCIAN bctiveen URBAN and the Lords.] OSM. Save him ! save him ! Luc. But he v/ishes death, OSM. He is ill and weak ; he left his bed to-day Against all counsel. {on her knees). Lucian, save my husband. Luc. Stand back ! {All the Lords fall hack except HlLDE- BRAND.] Stand back! [HiLDEBRAND also steps back.] I spare your husband's life If you consent never to see him more. OSM. {still on her knees). I . . . Luc. Silence ! Yes or no is life or death. SELF'S THE MAN 195 OSM. (Jaintl)^. Yes. \i-ises, zvatching URBAN intently.^ HiLD. (fiercely). Then there is no peace in Lombardy ! Luc. The peace of Lombardy shall be secured By Urban's exile. Urb. {moiirnfidly). Exile ! \sees his sword on the ground, and ivith a joyful cry stoops for it ; but OSMUNDA picks it up before he can reach it.] OSM. You must live ! Urb, (looks fixedly at OSMUNDA. Then in- clnding LUCIAN and HiLDEBRAND in a haughty glance). The world is wide. Be- yond the Adrian sea I'll carve an eastern kingdom for myself. TWENTY YEARS ELAPSE. ACT V Nil Nisi Bonum Scene. — St. MichaeVs Square, Pavia. A navi'ow street of lofty houses enters the square at the back of the stage. The Royal Palace is 071 the right of the square ; on the left the Church of St. Michael with lofty porch. Near the centre of the square is a veiled statue. From the door of the Royal Palace a draped gangway leads to a platform beside the statue. Steps ascend to the plat- form in front and behind. The houses in the square and in the street are decorated with flags, banners and garlands. Two streets enter the square on either side. 196 SELF'S THE MAN 197 // is summer time, abotit an hour after noon. When the curtaitz 7'ises the platform is guarded by soldiers, a crozvd is entering leisurely from all sides, the people are taking their places at the windows. From the back a Vinedresser, a Shep- herd carrying his crook, and a Blacksmith with a leather bag, rush doivn to the front IV here a street eiiters on the right. Vine. This is the stand! Shep. Ay, here they pass in throngs. Black, {holding out the bag to the people entering). Money, money ! hand it out ! Golden crowns or copper groats ! Though we're poor our hearts are stout, The Three. And our stomachs and our throats. Merc, (^giving money). What lusty lungs ! You're sorry rogues, I fear. 198 SELF'S THE MAN Black. Your humble servants, sir ! Servants of all Exalted citizens who can themselves Be merry, and who think it sin to see A poor man sober on a day like this. [singly and in gronps people e^iter, and most of them contribnte.\ Enter Urban by a street on the left. His beard and hair are white, his cheeks sunken, his eyes Jiollow. He is dressed like a beggar with wallet and staff. No one regards him and he heeds no one. He looks at the statue ifidifferently ; at the Palace long and earnestly. Then he seeks a place to rest, and at last, by permission of one of the soldiers, sits on the steps to the gangway. He takes from his wallet a crnst of bread and uncovers his head. Urb. Our daily bread ! Remember, "You must live." SELF'S THE MAN 199 Enter Junipert, old, dishevelled, dressed as in the first act, but zvith some incongruo7t.s attempts at finery, and a conspicitous rent or two in his cloak. Shep. Golden crowns, or copper groats ! J UN I. {feeling his pockets). I had . . . why, gentlemen, no greater joy . . . Ah, here ! I've chased it home. Drink the Oueen's health, Queen Sybil. Yes, I knew her father well. Black. You knew King Urban .? JUNL Did I ? I was there When Urban donned the headsman's dress to change The luck of Lombardy. Black, {looking closely at Junipert). You — let me see : For twenty years, horseman and footman, rich 200 SELF'S THE MAN And poor, I've known in Pavia every face. Why, you are Junipert, the ballad-monger ! Where have you been this many and many a year ? JUNI. Ill, sir. But not to-day. I would have rent My grave to see King Urban's brat unveil Her father's statue ; and I meant besides To toss my old cap at her coronation ; But that was past my strength. Have you been there ? Black. And back again, not half an hour ago. [giving Junipert money. '\ Take it, man ! Not a mite ; no, not from you ! Our old cloak must be clouted against the winter. In your own way, you are a craftsman too. And pipers don't pay fiddlers. JUNL Poverty, SELF'S THE MAN 201 By right of proverb, parts good company ; But The Three. Though we're poor our hearts are stout, And our stomachs and our throats. Enter Philadelphus, hardly older in appearance^ handsomely dressed. Phil. Money? I give it only when it's earned. Shep. {catching PHILADELPHUS by the neck with his crook). Come, come! Pay toll, old grumbler. Phil. Nasty villains ! You fail in common sense ; it's ruinous For able-bodied men to beg in public. Black. Pay, pay ! Phil. As a philosopher, I pay ; But as a man, I . . . \^gives money ?\ JUNI. Well, old enemy. 202 SELF'S THE MAN Phil. Above ground still ! What savoury- salt preserves So frail a body and so light a mind ? JUNL Still hypercritical ! I'm kept alive By sheer sincerity, which often saves More sinful limbs and scantier brains than mine. Phil. Sincerity? a wanton-virtuous word; A pitiful petitionary word ; A mere excuse ! PU tell you what it is : It's crass stupidity ; a strength of mind ; A root of character that grows the fool, The beggar and the outcast. Poetry, Divine sincerity, is undeveloped Craftiness, intelligence in the rough. And I maintain that as sincerity Is to stupidity, so intelligence Must always be to insincerity. There, the philosopher's golden rule of three ! SELF'S THE MAN 203 Black. You prating liar! [flings a coin in Philadelphus'S face?[ Take your dross again ! We've no blood-drinkers here ! Vine. Blood money! How? Black. Look at him! Know him yet? That's Philadelphus. Shep. What! Him that sold King Urban ? Phil. An ancient story ! Black. But we remember it to-day ! Phil. Good fellows Voices. Hi ! Beat him ; stone him ; strip him; hang him, dog! [Philadelphus runs out, pursued by the crowd.] JUNL Fate of philosophy! Poetic justice! Urb, {approaching Junipert). Is this some kind of masque — some play? JUNl. A play? 204 SELF'S THE MAN Urb. You spoke of Sybil — Queen Sybil. Who is she? JUNI. The daughter of our Lombard hero, Urban. Now, where have you been gathering ignor- ance? Urb. I came across the world to die at home. JUNI. To die ! Not yet a while ! Urb. But this is Pavia? J UNI. The very Pavia Urban loved — my friend, King Urban. Urb. Who are you? JUNI. One Junipert. I was King Urban's friend, and laureate To the divine Saturnia. Urb. What ? — who ? JUNI. She that is now the Abbess of St. Anne's, SELF'S THE MAN 205 The wealthiest nun in Lombardy ; you know King Urban gave her half his patrimony. I have a treasure hidden in my house — A crown she gave me once, a golden crown. Urb. And Lucian? JUNI. Lucian ! Five years beneath the sod. You are a stranger ! Urb. I forsook this land Long before Lucian's death. JUNI. Then you must know That Lucian died of disappointment ; nibbled To death by slow chagrin, the Lombards think, Because Osmunda would never marry him. Urb. She would not marry him. J UNI. Osmunda would not. Urb, Osmunda. JUNI. Yes ; she died a year ago. Urb. Osmunda died. JUNI. Osmunda, Urban's wife. 2o6 SELF'S THE MAN Her latter days were happy. — People say Urban himself is dead ; but I believe He sleeps somewhere enchanted in the east. Mark me ; our army starts to-day to fight The conquering Franks — Oh, these are high- strung times ! Well, if you live it out, you'll hear of this, Or I'm no prophet. When the battle bends Against us, and the Lombard banners droop, Upon a warhorse, thundershod, behold In burning mail, a godlike champion, Whose single arm shall stem discomfiture — Urban, come back again ! Urb, Come back again. J UNI. Well, as I told you, Lucian in the grave. Old Hildebrand— Urb. Hildebrand ! Thrasimund ! JUNI. Thrasimund ! Worm's meat ages since ! His wife SELF'S THE MAN 207 Married a ruffling knave who ruined her. — So Hildebrand, the toughest statesman known, He named his grandchild queen, and crowns her now, War being at our doors, to give the state Stability. With filial tenderness She on her coronation day unveils This statue of her father, Urban the Great. Urb. Urban the Great. \^The door of the Palace is thrown open, and Tritmpeters enter, sounding a flourish. Urban hangs inertly on his staff, then seekiiig support, leans in the angle between the platform and the steps. At the sound of the trumpets the croivd pours into the square, the ivindoivs fill with spectators, and a number of men climb to the top of the church porch. 2o8 SELF'S THE MAN TJie Royal Procession then enters from the Palace, including HiLDEBRAND, very old and withered, bnt still erect; Almeric, Ulric, Pasqual, and the DUKE OF Garda, noiv ar- rived at middle age; SYBIL wearing the iron crown of Lonibardy, Jier royal train borne by pages, and at- tended by ladies, and by Saturnta in the dress of an abbess, and two nuns. Sybil pauses as she crosses the thres- hold of the Palace, and the crowd bursts into a roar of zvelcome. Urban staggers out of the corner, and shading his eyes with his Jiand, looks at his daughter. His intelli- gence q?nckens ; he moves towards her. Soldiers attempt to intercept Jiim. Struggling with tliem me- SELF'S THE MAN 209 chanically, he endeavojtrs to reach the gangivay^ Syb. {impulsively to the Soldiers). Oh, let the old man be ; he seems wayworn. Voices. Long live the queen ! JUNI. Heaven help her tender heart ! [ With the exception of Sybil, Saturnia, HiLDEBRAND, the DUKE OF GaRDA, and one or two ladies, the members of the Royal party descend to a portion of the square, in front of the platform reserved for them. URBAN, JUNIPERT, the Blacksmith, the Shep- herd, and the Vinedresser, witJi a few others, are pressed by the tJij'07ig into this reserved space. HiLD, May it please your majesty. My lords, and folk Of all degrees, when we in wrath expelled The world-embracing aim, the patient love P 2IO SELF'S THE MAN Of all things human, and the mastery Of men and motives that in Urban formed A power, prevailing now more than the whole Precedent fame of our unconquered race, We blindly wrought the heaviest sin that time Has yet recorded against Lombardy. To-day repairs as far as afterthought Can make amends for past misdeeds, the ill We did ourselves and him. His soul is young Again in our young queen ; his prophecy Directs our arms though late ; and in the midst Of Pavia, his image shall remain, A public inspiration, as in our hearts The poignant savour of his memory dwells, Urb. {to himself). Old Hildebrand. [Sybil unveils the statue?^ Voices. God save the queen ! SELF'S THE MAN 211 Syb. My people, \_pomting to the statue], He is your captain, and through me he speaks Once more the message none who heard believed, Though all remembered it because the words Were branded on their hearts. My father said. Appealing for his life : " We must be first. Though everlasting war cement each course Of empire with our blood ; or cease to be, Our very name and language in dispute." Help me, my father, lest I break down and weep ! — That which he bade the Lombards do, the Franks Have done ; and we against their empire fight For power, for life itself. We have a soldier Worthy to lead the Lombards — my father's friend ; \gives her hand to Garda.] 212 SELF'S THE MAN I say to you, " Be great, and make us great ! " Oh, I have garnered all my father's words, And wear them like a rosary in my thought. He said, and reverently I say it too — " I am become this land, this Lombardy, With famous cities zoned from sea to sea. From Alp to Apennine ; and in my heart The Lombards have their home — the quick, the dead ; The ancient story, and the flying days, We'll fill with noble deeds ! " Voices. God save the queen ! [W/n/e his daughter speaks URBAN gradually acquires a f>roiid attitude like that of his statue.'] Voice. Saturnia ! 2ND Voice. Ay, ay, Saturnia ! [Urban shrinks into himself.] A Man {rising sitddenly on the top of the SELF'S THE MAN 213 church porch). Yes ; some of us keep things in mind. It's well To have a hero ; and we need one too ! But who can worship him who cast aside His noble wife ; and, when his enterprise Was ripe for action, wantoned time away In masques and childish tricks and revelry ? \_The Man sinks doivn iinviediately and is not seen again?\ Black. That's a bold fellow. Why, he's gone already! {to Urban). Father, this Urban had his faults and flaws. Urb. He had one fault. Black. One only ? What was that ? Urb. Himself. Shep. Right ! Something nibbled at the root. Vine. All said and done, a wolf among the flock. 214 SELF'S THE MAN Urb. She leads a holy life— Saturnia? Black. Ay, now she leads a holy life. Voices. The queen ! Syb. {having spoken with Saturnia). You call on one who is most dear to me. My mother in her agony when death Became impatient, and she too, longed to go, Accepted not the hand that beckoned her Till she had seen Saturnia. Then these two Forgave each other silently with tears, For neither found an apter eloquence To spend the treasure of their burdened hearts. And since that time I know no closer friend Than she who now will wind the tangle up Of that old lie no honest heart believed. Voices. Saturnia ! The Abbess ! Hear the Abbess ! Sat. It is to clear King Urban's fame I speak. [Urban listens ivith bent head.'] SELF'S THE MAN 215 Her gracious majesty, Queen Sybil, knows Her father's reign was spotless. Not more true To Lombardy than to his marriage vow, By day or night, he never sought me once ; Nor met me ; nor with any deed or gift Approached my memory. The guilt was mine : I, unrepentant, desperate, sent him word, And plausibly secured an audience ; Where he rebuked me, even when my craft of love That had ensnared my own desire, intrigued Most cunningly for his. Relentless foes Interpreted our meeting impiously ; But I would have the whole world know at last. Although my name be therefore held in scorn, That he was loftier than men — in love, In triumph, in defeat, a deity. 2i6 SELF'S THE MAN Urb. (crying out). No ! No ! HiLD. What now? Soldier. My lord, the vagabond The queen protected. Syb. Would he speak with me? Urb. Come nearer — nearer yet. [Sybil covies to tJie verge of tJie platform immediately above Urban.] Whose child are you ? Your father's image — so the flatterers say ? HiLD. Off with him ! Scourge him ! Syb. Gently, Hildebrand. — They say I have my father's look and poise. Urb. Osmunda's mouth ; and that's a gracious gift. Syb. You knew my father ? Urb. I knew him— impotent, In poverty, alone ; an exile gnawed Remorselessly by dogged memories. Discrowned and hopeless, like a star unsphered SELF'S THE MAN 217 He sank beneath the nadir to the abyss And noisome dregs of being, with the mad- man, The outlaw and the rat, ere Lombardy Had well begun to wonder at his fall. Pasq. Insane old man ! He had the highest heart That ever beat with life. Urb. I doubt it not ; But that was broken. For his head, 'twas warped With waste ambition ; and he saw the world Misshapen like a semblance in a pool The wind perturbs. He that was stuck by chance A flaunting feather in the age's cap, Essayed to be the sword of destiny. And with the dust and straw was swept aside, A bitten quill used once to write a name. Pasq. Ignoble, envious wretch ! 2i8 SELF'S THE MAN Voices. Pluck out his tongue ! Trample him in the dirt! Tear him in bits! [Urban is set upon and maltreated by the croivd.'] Syb. Deliver him ! No blood must stain to-day ! [Soldiers rescue Urban from the croivd. He is unconscious and bleeding?^ Sat. They've mauled him pitilessly. Come down with me. [Saturnia and the Nuns assist URBAN.] Gard. Slanders die hard, but here has one been killed By a brave woman. As for this new lie Of Urban's life in exile, I can count A score at least before it, spread abroad By beggars, palmers, jugglers, mountebanks, All circumstantial, opportunely launched To startle fancy, or elicit alms ; All equally authentic. — Forward there. SELF'S THE MAN 219 Or time will beat us. — Madam, your soldiers wait To greet King Urban's daughter and their queen. Syb. Lead on, my father's friend ! Gard. To victory ! King Urban's spirit shall triumph in our arms. [The Royal procession descends from the platform by the steps behind, and goes ont accompanied and folloiued by the cheering crowd. The spectators leave the ivindows, and Saturnia and the Nuns are left ivith Urban.] Sat. {supporting Urban's head). He lives. Go quickly and prepare a room. \TJie Nuns go out.] Urb. {opening his eyes). Saturnia ! [Saturnia draivs aivay from him ; but looking again into his eyes she re- cognises him, and zvith a loio cry 220 SELF'S THE MAN her head sinks beside his. A passage of triumphal music is heard in the distance. URBAN gets up on his knees, and listens eagerly, one hand on the ground, the other on SA- TURN lA's shoulder ?\ Urb. The war is over now ! My daughter, Sybil, Queen of the Lombards, rides Victorious into Pavia. — Ask me not Wliat I have been ! My Hfe went swiftly down Beneath the harrow : I came home to die ; Let no one know ; bury me in your heart. \The music comes nearer.'] My daughter Sybil rides victoriously ! The gates of death are open ! Have no fear ! How will Saturnia greet me when we wake ? Sat. Oh, I will greet you with a kiss and say Good morning in the land beyond the grave ! SELF'S THE MAN 221 Urb. Where is that lying fellow on the porch ? Urban was noble — do you hear ? — and great. Take this from me : Learn to forgive your- self ; Though you were Judas, learn to forgive yourself — Saturnia, help me up ! [Saturnia helps Jiim to his feet.'] I cannot die Beneath the harrow nailed into the earth. I would . . . die . . . standing. [His head falls on Saturnia'S sho?ilder, and he dies.] Enter, crossing the street at the back, the van of the Lombard army with the croivd shonti7io- joyfully. THE END LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 606 513 o 1 V»Vv*k.VvV- y y y y y\'y >* Vk'vv'vWk'^ ,»;>;»;^L>:»;>;>L>L>;>L>;^ nK\>v\\VvXv I ) > V V i k > fc * *'*"»'k * fc V"» »