Plays: Being: An unhistorical pastoral: A romantic farce: Bruce, a chronicle play: Smith, a tragic farce: and Scaramouch in Naxos, a pantomime.
General
Plays: Being: An unhistorical pastoral: A romantic farce: Bruce, a chronicle play: Smith, a tragic farce: and Scaramouch in Naxos, a pantomime.
Drama
Enter Sir James and Lady Montgomery, and Captain Mercer.
Mary-Jane [aside]. My husband! O, what shall I do?
Lady M. Alas,
She is not here!
Mercer. My wife is; that is she.
Edmund. You watch us keenly.
Sir James. We have reason, sir.
Mary-Jane [kneeling before Mercer].
Forgive me. Kneel beside me, May; kneel down.
[May kneels.
Give me your hand, and--kiss me.
May. Mother, mother!
What is it?
Bellona. Now, I think, the play begins.
Mary-Jane. They killed my baby; and they gave me her.
Look at her, feel her!--could I give her up?
Sir--madam!
May. Mother, mother!
Mary-Jane. Husband!
May. Hush,
Or you will die.
Mercer. Dear love, dear soul, dread nothing.
[Raises Mary-Jane.
Bellona [aside]. Herminia comes.--Good people, who are caught In this
same net of circumstance, go hence:
Pass through these birches, and you'll find a bower
Whose shade will blend more sweetly with your mood,
And make serener your enraptured souls.
Besides, I am the prompter, or the fate
Of one scene more fantastic than you play,
Which falls now to be acted here.
Sir James. Lady,
Your garb does not bespeak your wisdom.
Bellona. Sir,
Since when had decency sole grant of sense?
Edmund. Well said!
Sir James. I'll set my wits to yours anon.
Is this the way?
Bellona. Under the lowest boughs.
[Sir James and Lady Montgomery, Mercer,
Edmund, Mary-Jane and May go out.
Enter Antinous and Herminia with Annie Smith dressed like a bride.
Bellona. Ah, keep that look, sweet child! The mystery
Of sense and soul! Her eyes are infinite.
Herminia, what would not you and I,
Maids as we are, and infants yet in law,
Surrender thankfully to own again
The dream of innocence?
Herminia. My beauty--ay,
Half of my beauty for the dewy dawn,
The fragrance, and the shadow of heaven, the blood
That knows not what it would, bathing the thought
With odorous tides, the rapture of life, the swoon
Of innocence, the infinite longing,
The sweet pain, and a pure, brave boy to love me!
Antinous, we shall please ourselves with this,
And play at being a boy and girl again.
Antinous. My love, you are happier in this fantasy
Than when you were the thing and knew it not.
Herminia. And I believe you.
Bellona. Here they come. Sit, child.
Annie Smith sits on a knoll. Herminia and Bellona
lie on either side of her. Antinous stands behind.
Enter Clown with Ringan Deane.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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