And we come no more.
Mornings seven have we sung At thy maiden door; Now the seventh morn is rung, And we come no more.
[_Door opens and Ardia comes out. Gaina follows_]
_Ard._ A kiss to all! Who"s happier here than I Shall have my place.
_Mirimond._ We"ll ask Lord Bertrand that.
Thou"rt no more mistress of your yeas and nays.
_Ard._ O, but I am! I have a votary now Who"ll make my words his wishes and himself Bring them to pa.s.s.
_Mylitta._ No doubt. You"ll cough In oracles. He"ll puzzle o"er your sneeze That he may do its meaning. I have heard Such husbands do inhabit a green moon, And one may come to earth.
_Ard._ Kiss me, Mylitta!
Naught else will stop your mouth. O, dearest girls, No father"s here to give me to my lord, And yet I smile, I wed. For why?--his love Is not in earth with his dear body. No!
"Tis all about me here, bathing my heart, Now on my brow, now whispers at my ear, Now runs before my eyes to make a light Where they would rest. He loves this day as I do!
Yet I had stayed this busking marriage Had not my brothers pressed me to such haste And peace not waited on it. Think, dear maidens, Peace everywhere! Avesta safe and free, And Oswald"s sword in sheath-- What is that chanting?
_Gaina._ [_Looking from parapet_] A train comes up the heights.
_Mylitta._ The English Lords!
[_Enter Barca, left_]
_Ard._ Barca, who comes?
_Barca._ Prince Banissat, my lady, With all his court attending.
_Mirimond._ Banissat!
This is a Christian wedding.
_Ard._ We are at peace.
_Barca._ He brings you gifts. Your brothers go to meet him.
_Ard._ Where is Lord Bertrand?
_Barca._ Near at hand. He comes This way.
[_Exit Barca, left_]
_Ard._ My girls, wouldst see what dainties lie In yonder chamber?
_Mylitta._ Nay, we"ll wait.
_Ard._ Moonstones For golden hair--crescents and amber stars For tresses dark----
_Girls._ O! O!
_Ard._ Veils of spun silver----
[_Maidens buzz through door right_]
_Ard._ Go, give them all!
_Gaina._ All, mistress? Not----
_Ard._ Go, go!
[_Exit Gaina. Bertrand enters, left. He is in princely costume_]
_Ber._ Art found, my heaven?
_Ard._ Thou"st not a fear thy Heaven Is lost in me?
_Ber._ A doubt were my soul"s shame.
[_Points up the heights_]
Does not yon giant cross arise to say Christ reigns on Kidmir? Far as Suli plain Men see the sun upon its silver sides And hands upborne in prayer forget the sword That sleeps unwakened.
_Ard._ Will it sleep for long?
_Ber._ Ay, else your father"s death were devils" sport, Not Heaven"s will.
_Ard._ What word to-day from Oswald?
_Ber._ You name him?
_Ard._ Is he not our father?
_Ber._ O, G.o.d"s angel thou, not mine!
_Ard._ Does Biondel Now wear the crown of Ilon?
_Ber._ That"s confirmed.
And Vigard has Ramoor.
_Ard._ They profit much By their new faith.
_Ber._ Do they not spare my life?
So Oswald gives these crowns. You think he pays Too dear?
_Ard._ O, barest alms! I"d have the earth.
No less,--then want the sun,--ay, circling heaven, And yet be beggared losing thee! But they Must wear their purple o"er a Christian heart.
I would not doubt ... and yet....
_Ber._ They are the sons Of Charilus.
_Ard._ And Banissat?