Festus · Scene 15 (2/2) (1/3)
Festus*, Ladies*, and others.
Festus My Helen! let us rest awhile, For most I love thy calmer smile; We’ll not be missed from this gay throng, They dance so eagerly and long; And were one half to go away, I’ll bet the rest would scarce perceive it.
Helen With thee I either go or stay, Prepared, the same, to like or leave it. These two, perhaps, will take our places. They seem to stand with longing faces.
Festus Then sit we, love, and sip with me And I will teach thyself to thee. Thy nature is so pure and fine, ’Tis most like wine; Thy blood, which blushes through each vein, Rosy champagne; And the fair skin which o’er it grows, Bright as its snows. Thy wit, which thou dost work so well, Is like cool moselle; Like madeira, bright and warm, Is thy smile’s charm; Claret’s glory hath thine eye, Or mine must lie; But nought can like thy lips possess Deliciousness; And now that thou’rt divinely merry, I’ll kiss and call thee sparkling sherry.
Helen I sometimes dream that thou wilt leave me Without thy love, even me, lonely; And oft I think, though oft it grieve me, That I am not thy one love only: But I shall always love thee till This heart, like earth in death, stand still.
Festus I love thee, and will leave thee never, Until my soul leave life for ever. If earth can from her children run, And leave the seasons⁠—leave the sun⁠— If yonder stars can leave the sky, Bright truants from their home in heaven⁠— Immortals who deserve to die, Were death not too good to be given⁠— If Heaven can leave and live from God, And man tread off his cradle clod⁠— If God can leave the world He sowed, Right in the heart of space to fade⁠— Soul, earth, star, Heaven, man, world, and God May part⁠—not I from thee, sweet maid. Ah! see again my favourite dance, See the wavelike line advance; And now in circles break, Lake raindrops on a lake: Now it opens, now it closes, Like a wreath dropping into roses.
Helen It is a lovely scene, Fair as aught on earth; And we feel, when it hath been, At heart a dearth; As from the breaking up of some bright dream⁠— The failing of a fountain’s spray-topt stream.
Will Ladies⁠—your leave⁠—we’ll choose a Queen To rule this fair and festive scene.
Charles And it were best to choose by lot, So none can hold herself forgot. They draw lots: it falls to Helen.
Festus I knew, my love, how this would be; I knew that Fate must favour thee.
All Lady fair! we throne thee Queen! Be thy sway as thou last been⁠— Light, and lovely, and serene.
Festus Here⁠—wear this wreath! No ruder crown Should deck that dazzling brow; Or ask yon halo from the moon⁠— ’Twould well beseem thee now. I crown thee, love; I crown thee, love; I crown thee Queen of me! And oh! but I am a happy land, And a loyal land to thee. I crown thee, love; I crown thee, love; Thou art Queen in thine own right! Feel! my heart is as full as a town of joy: Look! I’ve crowded mine eyes with light. I crown thee, love; I crown thee, love; Thou art Queen by right divine! And thy love shall set neither night nor day O’er this subject heart of mine. I crown thee, love; I crown thee, love; Thou art Queen by the right of the strong! And thou didst but win where thou mightst have slain, Or have bounden in thraldom long. I crown thee, love; I crown thee, love; Thou art my Queen for aye! Ab the moon doth Queen the night, my love; As the night doth crown the day; I crown thee, love; I crown thee, love; Queen of the brave and free! For I’m brave to all beauty but thine, my love; And free to all beauty by thee.
Helen Here in this court of pleasure, blest to reign, If not the loveliest, where all are fair, We still, one hour, our royalty retain, To out-queen all in kindness and in care. Love, beauty, honour, bravery, and wit⁠— Was ever Queen served by such noble slaves? The peerage of the heart⁠—for Heaven’s court fit: We’ll dream no more that earth hath ills or graves. With mirth, and melody, and love we reign: Begin we, then, our sweet and pleasurous sway: And here, though light, so strong is beauty’s chain, That none shall know how blindly they obey. We have bat to lay on one light command⁠— That all shall do the most what best they love; And Pleasure hath her punishments at hand, For all who will not pleasure’s rule approve. But no! there’s none of us can disobey, Since, by our one command, we free ye thus; And, as our powers must on your pleasures stay⁠— Support⁠—and you will reign along with us.
Festus Ha! Lucifer! How now?
Lucifer I come in sooth to keep my vow.
Festus Thy vow?
Lucifer To revel in earth’s pleasures, And tire down mirth in her own measures.
Festus Go thy ways: I shrink and tremble To think how deep thou canst dissemble; For who would dream that in yon breast The heart of Hell was burning? Or deem that strange and listless guest Some priceless spirit earning? I hear, from every footstep, rise A trampled spirits smothered cries.
Charles Fest, engage fair Marian’s hand.
Festus Pass me; she is free no less Than I, who by my queen will stand⁠— May it please her loveliness!
Helen Festus, we know the love, and see, Which was with Marian and thee.
Festus I will not dance to-night again, Though bid by all the Queens that reign.
Helen What, Festus! treason and disloyalty Already to our gentle royalty?
Festus No⁠—I was wrong⁠—but to forgive Be thy sublime prerogative!
Helen Most amply, then, I pardon thee; In proof whereof, come, dance with me. A dance.
Laurence How sweetly Marian sweeps along; Her step is music, and her voice is song. Silver sandalled foot! how blest To bear the breathing heaven above, Which on thee, Atlas-like, doth rest, And round thee move. Ah! that sweet little foot; I swear I could kneel down and kiss it there. I should not mind if she were Pope; I would change my faith.
Charles Works, too, we hope.
Laurence Ah! smile on me again with that sweet smile, Which could from Heaven my soul to thee beguile; As I mine eye would turn from awful skies To hail the child of sun and storm arise; Or, from eve’s holy azure, to the star Which beams and becks the spirit from afar; For fair as yon star-wreath which high doth shine, And worthy but to deck a brow like thine; Pure as the light from orbs which ne’er Hath blessed us yet in this far sphere; As eyes of seraphs lift alone Through ages on the holy throne; So bright, so fair so free from guile, And freshening to my heart thy smile; Ay, passing all things here, and all above, To me, thy look of beauty, truth and love.
Harry Thy friend hath led his lady out.
Festus He looks most wickedly devout.
Fanny When introduced, he said he knew her, And had been long devoted to her.
Emma Indeed⁠—but he is too gallant, And serves me far more than I want. He vows that he could worship me⁠— Why⁠—look! he is now upon his knee!
Lucifer I quaff to thee this cup of wine, And would, though men had nought bat brine⁠— E’en the brine of their own tears, To cool those lying lips of theirs; And were it all one molten pearl, I would drain it to thee, girl; Ay, though each drop were worth of gold Too many pieces to be sold; And though, for each I drank to thee, Fate add an age of misery: For thou canst conjure up my spirit To aught immortals may inherit; To good or evil, woe or weal⁠— To all that fiends or angels feel; And wert thou to perdition given, I’d join thee in the scorn of Heaven!
Emma Oh fy! to only think of such a fate!
Lucifer Better than not to think on’t till too late. They’d not believe me, Festus, if I told them, That Hell, and all its hosts, this hour behold them.
Festus Scarcely⁠—that Devil here again! But though my heart burst in the strain, I will be happy, might and main! So wreathe my brow with flowers, And pour me purple wine, And make the merry hours Dance, dance, with glee like thine. While thus enraptured, I and thou, Love crowns the heart, as flowers the brow. The rosy garland twine Around the noble bowl, Like laughing loves that shine Upon the generous soul; Be mine, dear maid, the loves, and thou Shalt ever bosom them as now. Then plunge the blushing wreath Deep in the ruddy wine; As the love of thee till death Is deep in heart of mine. While both are blooming on my brow, I cannot be more blest than now.
Lucifer Thou talk’st of hearts, in style to me, quite The human heart’s about a pound of flesh.
Festus Forgive him, love, and aught he says.
Helen What is that trickling down thy face?
Festus Oh, love, that is only wine From the wreath which thou didst twine; And, casting in the bowl, I bound, For coolness’ sake, my temples round.
Helen I thought ’twas a thorn which was tearing thy brow; And if it were only a rose-thorn was tearing, Why, whether of gold or of roses, as now, A crown, if it hurt us, is hardly worth wearing.
Lucy From what fair maid hadst thou that flower? It came not from my wreath nor me.
Charles Love lives in thee as in a flower, And sure this must have dropped from thee⁠— From thy lip, or from thy cheek: See, its sister blushes speak. Nay, never harm the harmless rose, Though given by a stranger maid: ’Tis sad enough to feel that flower Feels it must fade. And trouble not the transient love, Though by another’s side I sigh; It is enough to feel the flame Flicker and die. And thou to me art flame and flower Of rosier body, brighter breath: But softer, warmer than the truth⁠— As sleep than death.
Festus The dead of night: earth seems but seeming⁠— The soul seems but a something dreaming. The bird is dreaming, in its nest, Of song, and sky, and loved one’s breast; The lap-dog dreams, as round he lies, In moonshine of his mistress’ eyes: The steed is dreaming, in his stall, Of one long breathless leap and fall: The hawk hath dreamt him thrice of wings Wide as the skies he may not cleave; But waking, feels them clipt, and clings Mad to the perch ’twere mad to leave: The child is dreaming of its toys⁠— The murderer of calm home joys; The weak are dreaming endless fears⁠— The proud of how their pride appears: The poor enthusiast who dies, Of his life dreams the sacrifice⁠— Sees, as enthusiast only can, The truth that made him more than man; And hears once more, in visioned trance, That voice commanding to advance, Where wealth is gained⁠—love, wisdom won, Or deeds of danger dared and done. The mother dreameth of her child⁠— The maid of him who hath beguiled⁠— The youth of her he loves too well; The good of God⁠—the ill of Hell.⁠— Who live of death⁠—of life who die⁠— The dead of immortality. The earth is dreaming back her youth; Hell never dreams, for woe is truth; And Heaven is dreaming o’er her prime, Long ere the morning stars of time; And dream of Heaven alone can I, My lovely one, when thou art nigh.
Helen Let some one sing. Love, mirth and song, The graces of this life of ours, Go ever hand in hand along, And ask alike each other’s powers.
Lucy Sings. For every leaf the loveliest flower Which Beauty sighs for from her bower⁠— For every star a drop of dew⁠— For every sun a sky of blue⁠— For every heart a heart as true. For every tear by pity shed Upon a fellow-sufferer’s head, Oh! be a crown of glory given; Such crowns as saints to gain have striven⁠— Such crowns as seraphs wear in Heaven. For all who toil at honest fame, A proud, a pure, a deathless name; For all who love, who loving bless, Be life one long, kind, close caress⁠— Be life all love, all happiness.
Lucifer Tell me what’s the chiefest pleasure In this world’s high heaped measure?
All Power⁠—beauty⁠—love⁠—wealth⁠—wine!
Lucifer All different votes!
Fanny Come, Frederic⁠—thine? What may thy joy-judgment be?
Frederic I scarce know how to answer thee; Each, apart, too soon will tire; All together slake desire. So ask not of me the one chief joy of earth, For that I’m unable to say; Bat here is a wreath which will loose its chief worth, If ye pluck but one flower away. Then these are the joys that should never dispart⁠— The joys which are dearest to me: As the song, and the dance, and the laugh of the heart, Thou, girl, and the goblet be.
Lucifer Oh, excellent! the truth is dear⁠— The one opinion, too, I love to hear.
Helen Is this a Queen’s fate⁠—to be left alone? I wish another had the throne. Festus! why art thou not here, Beside thy liege and lady dear?
Festus My thoughts are happier oft than I, For they are ever, love, with thee; And thine, I know, as frequent fly O’er all that severs us, to me; Like rays g£ stars that meet in space, And mingle in a bright embrace. Never load thy locks with flowers, For thy cheek hath a richer flush; And than wine, or the sunset hour, Or the ripe yew-berry’s blush. Never braid thy brow with lights, Like the sun, on its golden way To the neck and the locks of night, From the forehead fair of day. Never star thy hand with stones, For, for every dead light there, Is a living glory gone, Than the brilliant far more fair. Nay, nay; wear thy buds, braids, gems! Let the lovely never part; Thou alone canst rival them, Or in nature, or in art. Be not sad;⁠—thou shalt not be: Why wilt mourn, love, when with me? One tear that in thine eye doth start Could wash all purpose from my heart, But that of loving thee; If I could ever think to wrong A love so riverlike, deep, pure, and long.
Helen I cast mine eyes around, and feel There is a blessing wanting; Too soon our hearts the truth reveal, That joy is disenchanting.
Festus I am a wizard, love; and I A new enchantment will supply; And the charm of thine own smile Shall thine own heart of grief beguile. Smile⁠—I do command thee rise From the bright depths of those eyes! By the bloom wherein thou dwellest, As in a rose-leaved nest; By the pleasure which thou tellest, And the bosom which thou swellest, I bid thee rise from rest; By the rapture which thou causest, And the bliss while e’er thou pausest, Obey my high behest!
Helen Dread magician! Cease thy spell; It hath wrought both quick and well.