Lords and Lovers, and Other DramasDargan, Olive Tilford
General
Lords and Lovers, and Other Dramas
Dargan, Olive Tilford
American drama -- 20th century
_The._ O, see, Ocrastes,
What lieth here! The shell of what even now
Was she who gave me birth.
_Oc._ Not dead? Ah, love!
_The._ Call me not love! Not here--and now. O, go!
_Oc._ Theano!
_The._ Touch me not! My doubt will make
Your hand a thing of fire!
_Oc._ Dear heart, fend off
This sea of woe or 'twill sweep reason with it.
I could be wild with strange things that I know,
And came to tell you of, but for your sake
I'm calm.
_The._ Dost know, sir, she was poisoned?
_Oc._ Poisoned?
Forgive me, love. Be mad now as thou wilt,
Still thy distraction will be stinted measure
For grief so dark. Poisoned! O, who----
_The._ Who? Who?
That is the question thrusts me like a sword.
All loved her--all. She had no enemy.
_Oc._ [_Calmly_] You spoke of doubt. What did you mean, Theano?
_The._ Leave me, Ocrastes! Go!
_Oc._ Phillistus----
_The._ No!
He loved her well. That was his touch of Heaven.
O, who had cause but----
_Oc._ Do not say it. I go.
Not deity descending from the skies
To make our peace could now unite us. Ay,
Thou 'rt dead to me as that cold body.
_The._ Oh-h! [_Swoons_]
_Oc._ And in that bosom did I come to set
A purpose I'd not whisper now to death
Lest his dumb lips should tattle. Alone--alone,
To grapple in the dark the beast of chance!
... Affection on my track shall ache to death,
Friendship in blood lie mute, and love I'll tear
From its high heaven to plunge like Ate's coals
On Pluto's fire! [_Exit_]
_Phil._ [_Comes forward and revives Theano_]
Sweet girl, he's gone.
_The._ [_Rising_] Where is he?
_Phil._ He'll trouble thee no more.
_The._ Heat me the irons!
This tongue shall be burnt out that dared accuse him!
_Phil._ She's mad indeed!
_The._ Nay, sir, the cloud of pitch
That blinded me is gone. [_Enter maids_] Touch her not yet.
[_Maids stand aside_]
Methone, hasten Brentio to find
The noblest lord in Syracuse.
_Meth._ Who, mistress?
_The._ Who but Ocrastes? Go!
_Phil._ [_Approaching her_] Theano----
_The._ Sir.
We have no need of you. I pray you, go. [_Kneels by bed_]
He will forgive, then I will die with thee!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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