| ACT I. SCENE II. A glade in the forest. Rocks, and a few huge, knotted trees. Late twilight. Two charcoal-burners and a girl. |
|
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Come, man, let's be getting home. |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
Why, since we're free of the forest, let's make the most of it. |
| Girl |
It's getting dark. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Aye, so it is. Come on, man. We've gone far to-day: it's long since we dared come out here. |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
Oh, I'll come. An I were not so feared, I'd laugh at it. First we daren't come out. Now we're feared of staying, and none too happy about going back. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
It's well the King and his knights have cleared the forest; we've less to fear now. |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
Help me, girl. Well, I like knights less when they're doing well than when they're hard put to it. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Why so? |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
Why, when they're pressed they've trouble enough to fend for themselves, and they let us bide quiet; but when they're quiet and comfortable, we're best clear of them. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Let's away. |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
I'm with you. There are too many odd qualms in this valley for my liking. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Come on, then. Why, who's here? A knight. |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
More like some robber. Would we were well home. |
| Enter Lanval (C). |
|
| Lanval |
Good, these should know. Come hither, my good folk. Know ye these paths? |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Nay, I do not. |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
Nor I. |
| Lanval |
Come, answer me, these thickets are your home, And ye must know them. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
But, good sir, we came Thus far by chance. We know the certain path To Carduel. |
| Lanval |
But I would travel south. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
South, you — where's south? |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
Why, anywhere but here. |
| Lanval |
What ails your speech, and why this trembling, man? I shall not hurt you. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
It grows over late; The sun's near down. |
| Lanval |
I see you fear. Thou, girl, Knowest thou the roads that lead beyond this place? |
| Girl |
Truly, my lord, I dare not overstep These certain limits. |
| Lanval |
Is this truth? |
| Girl |
My lord. |
| Lanval |
Fear not, I shall not do you harm! Here will I rest, since I must have the day To light my passage. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
We may go? |
| Lanval |
Why not? God speed you. |
| The 2nd Charcoal Burner offers to speak to Lanval. |
|
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Fool, come on! |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
He should be told. |
| Lanval |
Stay, though, I need a service of you yet; Light me a fire, for I'll sleep here to-night. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
We will, my lord. Stay, girl, and make a fire. |
| Lanval |
Not so, my friends, stay ye and make it. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Night Is hard upon us. (They make a fire.) |
| Lanval |
Ye shall go full soon. Tell me, what fear ye? |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
My father near this place Met with the death-dogs hunting! |
| Lanval |
Oh, I know That tale! |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
But more, good sir, I know this vale too well. This wood is full of shadows, and the night Goes not from it, but lurks the livelong day In its deep places. One is followed marked By a strange fear that waits for the night hours. What was that sound? |
| Lanval |
Nothing, my good soul. Ye that do fear the length of all your days, Find doubt at dawn, half courage in the day, Terror at twilight. What the night can bring Of added tremors I may not conceive. |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
My lord, the shadows are not still, but move. The air is quiet. All should be quite still. And yet this glade is pregnant with a sound, And silent movement in the silence hangs. The fire is made. |
| Lanval |
Then go, good fools — farewell! Why go ye not? |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
My lord, — |
| Lanval |
Well? |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
Speak! |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Nay, do thou speak. |
| Lanval |
(Throwing them some money.) See, here is the reward — |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
It was not that. |
| Lanval |
What then? |
| Girl |
Oh, my lord, Certain fair knights have wandered to this glade, Seeking the fear that ever haunted it. This hungry forest hath consumed their lives; No man has seen them, nor has any heard Aught of their end at any time again. Sweet sir, return, for to remain is — |
| Lanval |
What? |
| Charcoal-burner 2 |
Tis death, my lord. |
| Lanval |
Why, then, 'tis death. The night is here. Go, ye good fearful things, Lest your own fear play havoc with your lives. Silence! Enough! I'll have no more of this. |
| Exeunt charcoal-burners. |
|
| Lanval |
Poor souls, they wander in a fitful dream; Born in the shadow, nurtured like the stuff That grows so rank between the stagnant moat And savage wall. The usage of their days Is but a hope that they shall pass unmarked. Unnoticed birth, unhindered life, and thence Unhampered passage to a state unknown. Existence cramped beneath the wings of fear! Poor souls, my sorrow is not half of theirs, And yet suffices. (Lies down.) Sleep. Did I desire To wish them well, I think to sleep is best, Since 'tis denied them to attain great ends. |
| The stage grows dark and the fire burns low. Presently a figure comes from the background and begins to tend the fire. Lanval half awakes. |
|
| Lanval |
Returned so soon? |
| Triamour |
The fire burnt low, my lord. |
| Lanval |
Dost thou not fear? |
| Triamour |
I shall not fear here. |
| Lanval |
Thou needst not, girl. (dreamily) It's true more danger lives Amongst mankind than in the open woods. The twisted branches that enframe the stars Are not as tangled as men's motives are. The fiercest shadows that can haunt a glade, The forms of terror that infest bleak hills, Are not as savage, nor as dangerous, As fretful moods in passionate wild souls. All nature's constant save in idle man. Night is so sweet that I can wonder now, As must the spirits who look down on us; We fret and trouble, spur our willing souls, And yet see life outpace our earnest quest. Why not be gentle, and say just good-night, Sleep well, my dreams, sleep well, mine enterprise; To-morrow — well, to-morrow. Tell me, child, Why did thy comrades fear this place so much. |
| Triamour |
My lord, at times a phantom uses this As her abode. She has the power to suck The life and essence from all things she meets, To creep about the heart of men with words And dim illusions, till her manner draws The soul from them, as all blood-feeding beasts, Once fixed, drain forth their poor drugged victim's life. |
| Lanval |
What more? |
| Triamour |
The power that in the darkness lives Impalpable, is hers to lose or hold. The mysteries that on all being brood, Are hers to open. In the mists of night She sits embowered, and strange thoughts surround Her habitation. For her service wait Wild visions ready, and fantastic dreams, To make the circuit of the sleeping world, And breathe their formless and suggestive speech To souls that slumber. |
| Lanval |
(Seizing a brand from the fire.) No charcoal-burner this. The form itself! But, God, how fair it is — Is this enchantment, or does mystery In silence whispered, so infect my mind That I see phantoms? |
| Triamour |
Lanval. |
| Lanval |
Hast my name? Why, then, my soul has left its fleshly shape, And stands to mock me. |
| Triamour |
Have no fear. |
| Lanval |
Not I! If thou be flesh, and of defiant sort, A blade can test thee. If thou art not that, But mere refraction of disordered thought, Thou canst not harm me. |
| Triamour |
Nay, I shall not harm Aught of thy being. Come, touch me if thou wilt; No need of steel, for that will hurt me not. |
| Lanval |
(Coming near.) So, 'tis the stuff, the substance of this world, And no slight spirit, vaporous form of dreams, Born of the moonbeams and the mist of lakes, Clasped in the woodlands. Thou didst speak my name — I know thee not! |
| Triamour |
But I do know thee well, For I am flesh or spirit as I please, For some incarnate in this woman's shape, For some the fear and terror of deep glades, For some the flame invisible that drifts Out of the night, that fires the soul of men To seek the strangeness of all wild desire. |
| Lanval |
They say the devil takes such shapes as this, When he would tempt the constancy of knights! |
| Triamour |
Nay, fear me not. |
| Lanval |
Nay, I fear not, but doubt Why thou hast come to trouble me. |
| Triamour |
Do I So trouble thee? I come but from my place To taste the fever of this sickly earth, And also — |
| Lanval |
Also? |
| Triamour |
I have come too close Unto this world. My being has been snared Into its uses. |
| Lanval |
What meanest thou? |
| Triamour |
Is there need To ask of me? Nay, Lanval, I have come Out of the quiet of the middle world To plead with thee, I, Triamour, One of the daughters of the middle world. |
| Lanval |
Let me hold fast my senses, for they reel; — I know this world! |
| Triamour |
There is a world as well, That lies so close unto your being's self, Is so entwined amid your secret thoughts, That its existence is not known of you. This is the vapour that doth shelter man Lest he be scorched by the fierce heat of truth. |
| Lanval |
How may this be? |
| Triamour |
Speak not of it, but say I came not vainly! |
| Lanval |
How shall I believe? |
| Triamour |
That I do love thee? Look into mine eyes, And say if malice or deception lie In ambush there! |
| Lanval |
I dare not. |
| Triamour |
Am I then Not fair enough? |
| Lanval |
So wonderful and strange! I dare not let my straining ears take hold Upon thy speech. |
| Triamour |
Thou wilt not hear me? |
| Lanval |
No; For such a beauty is too dangerous For mortal feeling. |
| Triamour |
I am shamed. Unkind Thou art and cruel. (She moves away. ) |
| Lanval |
Can I endure it so, Or will my lips enforcèd cry the words — My soul compels them! I have but my soul To stake on it. Stay, Triamour! |
| Triamour |
Farewell! My own state waits me. |
| Lanval |
May I not attain Unto that world? |
| Triamour |
But by mine aid alone; And since no pleasure or sweet feeling comes Of this my presence, let us be apart. |
| Lanval |
Stay but a moment. |
| Triamour |
We shall meet no more At any time! |
| Lanval |
Nay, be thou merciful. Forgive my failing. 'Twas my craven soul That shrank in doubt from this dread novelty, But for a time. The fashion of my fear Was more amazement than true dread. So swift, So strange was thy sweet coming that my mind, But half awoken from fantastic thoughts, Lost mastery upon itself. But now My fear is swung to terror of long days Without thy presence. |
| Triamour |
This is no constancy, To spurn me first and then implore mine aid. Have care, Sir Lanval, this is no slight quest; And slender souls that are not steeled of love, May fail their entry and be ever lost In the cold void that lies about these gates. Art thou my knight, sworn to my services? |
| Lanval |
Let me be so, though I had never thought To do love-service. I will pledge my soul Unto thy being. |
| Triamour |
Bear witness to it, dreams, All evil hauntings that infest the air! Now shall remorse and foul disaster watch, And blasting visions hang upon thy course. See that thou fail not. |
| Lanval |
On my soul be it! |
| Triamour |
Look on the world, for it may be henceforth Thou shalt not see it. Bid the earth farewell And all its usage. |
| Lanval |
I'll not mourn for it. Sour and displeasing it has been to me, Unfriends of mine most of its habitants, And I can leave it with no pain at heart. |
| Triamour |
Ours is a better and a stranger world, Its gates swing open in the darkling hours Upon the path of perfumes of the night. Harken, ye wardens of the middle world, Spirits of flame that stand at this world's edge — A soul would enter! Let me touch thine eyes And put the fabric of this world away, A time-worn garment to be cast aside On such a moment. Come, it is the hour! |
| {As she touches his eyes there is darkness and confusion. A rush of wild music. The stage remains dark for some moments, then gradually lightens, but remains darker than before. Triamour and Lanval have vanished. A horn is heard in the distance, then again nearer. Enter Geraint and Gyfert, the latter dragging one of the charcoal-burners; with them one or two men-at-arms, with torches. |
|
| Gyfert |
Wast here, fellow? |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Aye, for sure, We left him here. |
| Geraint |
Tis a wild spot, fit for unholy deeds. Question him, Gyfert. |
| Gyfert |
Aye, my lord. If we but find the track of him, I'll lay this dog's nose to it, and if he follow the line untruly, we have rope and trees. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Spare me, my lord. Indeed, we left him here; He bade us leave him. |
| Gyfert |
Here's a fire, my lord, And warm as yet. |
| Geraint |
He cannot then be far. A plague of this darkness. Bring the torches by. |
| Gyfert |
Now for a cast! Speak to it truly, my ill-favoured brachet. Give tongue, fellow! |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Truly, my lord, we made this fire for him, And then, being fearful, for he seemed distraught, Prayed him return. He bade us leave him here. |
| Gyfert |
His cloak! |
| Geraint |
Unmarked? |
| Gyfert |
Save of the soil, my lord. |
| Geraint |
He may have wandered. Curse this night and gloom. |
| Gyfert |
It grows the wilder for the touch of dawn. |
| Geraint |
What fit of madness made him choose this place To rest him in? |
| Gyfert |
This fellow saith it holds An evil name. |
| Geraint |
Most like, the while he's in it! Where are his tracks? |
| Gyfert |
Confusion, 'tis too hard In this ill light! |
| Geraint |
We'll try by day. (To man-at-arms.) Go, thou, And bid them bring the horses and our gear, The while we find some spot more fit to use For our encampment. Listen, fellow, now If we find not this knight alive and well Upon the morrow, 'twill go hard with thee. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
The evil spirit that doth haunt this glade Hath taken him! |
| Geraint |
What tale is this? |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
My lord, It is well known this place is dangerous, A valley favoured by the dogs of hell! |
| Geraint |
Well, well! You're likely to know more of hell Unless we find him! |
| Gyfert |
Tis a gallows face! Here's a good branch. |
| Charcoal-burner 1 |
Oh, no, my lord. |
| Geraint |
Enough. Less noise, fool. Gyfert! come, we'll on; Bring him away; the moon is overcast. |
| Gyfert |
If it were not, this dog would howl to it. |
| Exeunt. Curtain. |