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قراءة كتاب Plays and Lyrics

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‏اللغة: English
Plays and Lyrics

Plays and Lyrics

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 4

class="i0">And he comes here?

Halil. As he were lord of skies!
To lady Yolanda, by my lute!
Maga. Where is she?
Alessa. I do not know; perhaps, her chamber.
Mauria. Stay:
His word may be of the Saracens.
Halil (calling). Oho!

(He admits Olympio, who enters insolently down. All press around him gaily.)

Mauria. Well what, Olympio, from Famagouste?
What tidings? tell us.
Maga. See, his sword!
Olympio. Stand off.
Mauria. The tidings, then, the tidings!
Olympio. None—for women.
Mauria. So, so, my Cupid? None of the Saracens?
Of the squadron huddling yesterday for haven
At Keryneia?
Olympio. Who has told you?
Mauria. Who?
A hundred galleys westing up the wind,
Scenting the shore, but timorous as hounds.
A gale—and twenty down!
Maga. The rest are flown?
Olympio. Ask Zeus, or ask, to-morrow, lord Amaury,
Or, if he comes, to-night. To lady Yolanda
I'm sent and not to tattle silly here.

(He starts off, but is arrested by laughter within. It is Civa who enters, holding up a parchment.)

O! Only Civa. (Starts again with Halil.)
Civa. How, Olympio!
Stay you, and hear!—May never virgin love him!
Gone as a thistle! (Turns.)
Mauria. Pouf!
Alessa (to Civa). Now, what have you?
Civa. Verses! found in the garden. Verses! verses!
On papyrus of Paphos. O, to read!
But you, Alessa—!
Alessa (takes them). In the garden?
Civa. By
The fountain cypress at the marble feet
Of chaste Diana!
Maga. Where Sir Camarin
And oft our lady—!
Civa. Maga will you prattle?
Read them to us, Alessa, read them, read.
They are of love!
Maga. No, sorrow.
Civa. O, as a nun
You ever sigh for sorrow!—They are of love!
Of valour bursting through enchanted bounds
To ladies prisoned in an ogre's keep!
Then of the bridals!—O, they are of love!
Maga. No, Civa, no! of sorrow! see, her lips!

(She points to Alessa, who, reading, has paled.)

See, see!
Civa. Alessa!
Alessa. Maga—Civa—Ah!

(She rends the parchment.)

Mauria. What are you doing?
Alessa. They were writ to her!
Mauria. To her? to whom? what are you saying? Read!
Read us the verses.
Alessa. No.
Mauria. Tell then his name
Who writes them, and to whom.
Alessa. I will not.
Mauria. Then
It is some guilt you hide!—And touching her
You dote on—lady Yolanda!
Alessa. Shame!
Mauria. Some guilt
Of one, then, in this castle!—See, her lips
Betray it is.
Maga. No, Mauria! no! (holds her) hush!

(Forms appear without.)

Mauria. O, loose me.
Maga. There, on the loggia! Hush, see—
Our lady and Sir Camarin.
Alessa (fearful). It is....
They heard us, Maga?
Maga. No, but——
Mauria (to Alessa). So? that mouse?
Alessa. You know not, Mauria, what 'tis you say.

(Berengere coldly, as if consenting to it, enters.)

She is seeking us; be still.
(Stepping out.) My lady?
Berengere. Yes.
Your lamps; for it is time
Now for your aves and o'erneeded sleep.
But first I'd know if yet Lord Renier——

(Sees their disquiet—starts.)

Why are you pale?
Alessa. I?

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