_I held a wand of almond bough And waved it three times circlewise, I whispered words of faery lore With beating heart and close shut eyes._
_I oped them on a forest scene Of summer-land; the open glade Lay shining like a tourmaline Set in a ring of duller jade._
_I saw three queens with shining crowns Go riding by on palfreys gray; I saw three knights that followed close, And dreams were in their eyes that day._
_I saw a minstrel with his harp, His cloak was green and patched and torn; I saw a hunter with his bow, I heard the winding of his horn._
_I saw a bush of lavender With clouds of fluttering b.u.t.terflies, Then I looked backward to the earth And broke my faery spell with sighs._
DOUCE-COEUR.
I cannot bear thy music. In my heart No answering chords respond. The past is dead.
I hear the tears of thousands in thy voice.
When Sorrow speaks--I hear no tones but hers.
SORROW.
No, thou art mine, Princess. I hold thee fast.
POETRY.
Douce-coeur, I bid thee raise thy heavy eyes.
Dance is the eldest daughter of my heart.
Born when the rhythm of the stars was voiced, The past and future meet alike in her.
Let her bring back the sunshine to thy face.
DANCE.
With flying feet we chased the hours away.
I used to make thee clap thy hands in glee And thought to go with thee along the years.
DOUCE-COEUR.
My feet are lead, but dance on if thou wilt, What can the future hold for me and thee?
[_As the Dance ends, she cries:_]
Ah, Sorrow, bid them cease and drive them hence.
Send Joy and Laughter, Song and Dance away.
Call Silence here who is thy foster-child.
I am afraid of all this mocking world And fain would live alone, alone with thee.
SORROW.
Go forth, go forth into the wilderness. Here is no room for ye.
Go forth into the void that lies beyond. Here I in majesty Henceforth shall reign, veiling the sun and stars to all eternity.
Go forth. Let wide-eyed Silence take the place ye occupied before Where flowers ye scattered he henceforth shall strew ashes upon the floor.
Twilight shall fall upon this Court of Youth now and for evermore.
[_Exeunt SONG, DANCE, JOY, and LAUGHTER._]
POETRY.
Douce-coeur, thine eyes are bound. Thou dost but see With vision warped by her who holds thy hand.
I, who have watched the web of Life unfold And hold the secrets of a million lives, Can tell thee from the heights whereon I dwell, It is not thus that thou wilt help the world.
Thou canst not right the wrong with further wrong.
But now thine ears are dulled; thou wilt not hear What I might teach thee.
[_During this speech enter HERALD who speaks to SERVICE. Exit HERALD._]
SERVICE. Three suitors, Fame, Riches, and Power are at the gate, Princess, and claim an audience. They have banished the Gray Woman from the side of others and seek to do this for thee. With them they bring charms that have before broken the spells of Sorrow; these are beyond price but each asks in exchange thy hand in marriage as promised in the proclamation cried by the heralds.
DOUCE-COEUR [_turning to SORROW_].
What must I do?
SORROW. Bid them approach, my child; It may be their rich gifts will pleasure thee.
[_Enter HERALD followed by FAME._]
HERALD. Fame, Lord of the Marches of the East, salutes thee.
[_Exit HERALD._]
FAME.
Fame am I called, Princess. I bring thee this Crown of Unfading Leaves for which men pray And toil throughout their lives--unsatisfied.
It shall be thine unsought. Grant me thy hand, And thou shalt live in glamour of high destiny.
Thy name shall sound in honor through the world; Thy words shall set the hearts of men aflame.
Let me but place the wreath about thy head, Thus shalt thou strike this lyre with deathless notes Which shall, vibrating through the fields of s.p.a.ce, Ring on, and on, nor ever find a goal.
SORROW.
Deaf are the ears on which thy phrases fall.
With one so young what are thy spells to mine?
DOUCE-COEUR.
I see thy wreath of leaves, entwined with asps Whose forked tongues whisper "jealousy and hate."
Thy harp is out of tune with Sorrow"s voice.
POETRY.
She is too tender for thine upward way.
The solitude of those who follow thee Is not for her. Pa.s.s on, my lord, pa.s.s on.
[_Enter HERALD, followed by RICHES._]
[Ill.u.s.tration: Costumes for _The Masque of the Two Strangers_ designed at the Washington Irving High School.]
HERALD.
Riches, Lord of the Marches of the West, salutes thee.
[_Exit HERALD._]
RICHES.
My name is Riches, and I offer thee A store of wealth exhaustless as the sand.
This is the symbol of my opulence, A casket in whose depths gold never fails.
Grant me thy hand, and thou, Princess, shalt gain All that the world contains of happiness.
Thy palace shall be built of precious stones, And thou shalt walk on rose-leaves every day.
Sorrow shall be forgotten in my arms, Nothing shall be denied thee wealth can buy.