The cup; and The falconTennyson, Alfred Tennyson, Baron
General
The cup; and The falcon
Tennyson, Alfred Tennyson, Baron
English drama -- 19th century
[_Flourish of trumpets._
_Enter a GALATIAN NOBLEMAN with crown on a cushion._
NOBLE (_kneels_).
Greeting and health from Synorix. He sends you
This diadem of the first Galatian Queen,
That you may feed your fancy on the glory of it,
And join your life this day with his, and wear it
Beside him on his throne. He waits your answer.
CAMMA.
Tell him there is one shadow among the shadows,
One ghost of all the ghosts—as yet so new,
So strange among them—such an alien there,
So much of husband in it still—that if
The shout of Synorix and Camma sitting
Upon one throne, should reach it, _it_ would rise
HE!... HE, with that red star between the ribs,
And my knife there—and blast the king and me,
And blanch the crowd with horror. I dare not, sir!
Throne him—and then the marriage—ay and tell him
That I accept the diadem of Galatia—
[_All are amazed._
Yea, that ye saw me crown myself withal.
[_Puts on the crown._
I wait him his crown’d queen.
NOBLE.
So will I tell him.
[_Exit._
Music. Two Priestesses go up the steps before the shrine,
draw the curtains on either side (discovering the Goddess),
then open the gates and remain on steps, one on either side,
and kneel. A Priestess goes off and returns with a veil of
marriage, then assists Phœbe to veil Camma. At the same time
Priestesses enter and stand on either side of the Temple.
Camma and all the Priestesses kneel, raise their hands to the
Goddess, and bow down.
[_Shouts_, “Synorix!
Synorix!” _All rise._
CAMMA.
Fling wide the doors, and let the new-made children
Of our imperial mother see the show.
[_Sunlight pours
through the doors._
I have no heart to do it. (_To Phœbe_). Look for me!
[_Crouches. PHŒBE looks
out._
[_Shouts_, “Synorix!
Synorix!”
PHŒBE.
He climbs the throne. Hot blood, ambition, pride
So bloat and redden his face—O would it were
His third last apoplexy! O bestial!
O how unlike our goodly Sinnatus.
CAMMA (_on the ground_).
You wrong him surely; far as the face goes
A goodlier-looking man than Sinnatus.
PHŒBE (_aside_).
How dare she say it? I could hate her for it
But that she is distracted.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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