Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE QUEEN OF SHEBA, by STARK YOUNG


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: That thou, wales, mayst enter here, we grant
Last Line: Oh, return, return, that I may look upon thee.
Subject(s): Sheba, Queen Of (10th Century B.c.)


AUVERGNE, who thinks himself to be King Solomon.
GAWAIN, who thinks himself the Prince of Wales.
ADELLE, who, for a time, thinks herself the Queen of Sheba.
A SISTER, their keeper.

SCENE.—A Gothic chamber, spacious and shadowy, the long windows at
the far end heavily curtained. Through the curtains the downs appear, broken by
rocky crags. Far below is a mere, and the sound of the water in the coves
mingles with the wind from the moor. The curtains move faintly with the shifting
wind.
It is the King's harem. The walls are fantastically covered with pictures
of women in many styles. On the table and over the floor lie a number of
pictures cut in two.
AUVERGNE stands on the right, dressed as King Solomon in state, with a
long sweeping mantle and a crown of faded gilt. To the left of the door in the
rear, stands GAWAIN, in a servile attitude almost curlike.

AUVERGNE.
That thou, Wales, mayst enter here, we grant;
But thou mayst not draw near unto our person.
For ranged with ours, thy lineage is humble;
William the Norman, thy first ancestor,
Though lord of Britain, was meanwhile the son
Of a low peasant woman—therefore thou,
Not through thy fathers' nor thine own desert,
Mayst look upon our face in presence here,
But through our courtesy.

GAWAIN.
La, la, I know well the dead leaves fall.

AUVERGNE.
Poor brutish knave! Go thou and bear this word:
The Queen of Sheba is most welcome.
[GAWAIN shambles out. The door is reopened and ADELLE enters. She
wears a torn veil and glitters with ornaments. In her hand she carries an old
wreath of wax flowers and with it a cluster of faded roses. GAWAIN follows
her and takes his former place by the door at the back. The SISTER attendant
enters and stations herself near the door.]

AUVERGNE.
Who is she that looketh forth as the morning?

ADELLE.
I am a rose of Sharon,
A lily of the valleys.

AUVERGNE.
As a lily among thorns
So art thou among the daughters.

ADELLE.
As the apple tree among the trees of the wood,
So art thou among the sons.

AUVERGNE.
There are threescore queens
And fourscore concubines
And virgins without number,
But thou art one.

SISTER.
Ah, blessed God, how beautiful are they!
Alas, this heavy madness!

ADELLE.
From mine own far-off realm I come, O King,
For marvel of thy name.

AUVERGNE.
Soft is thy voice as when the twilight falls
On Lebanon, and the dove calls.

ADELLE.
Weary my feet and weary my starved eyes
For sight of thee, Beloved.

SISTER.
How the wind wails on the moorland!

AUVERGNE.
Sweeter than honey from the cedar wood
Thy coming is, fairer than stars thy sight:
Yet unto me some twice or thrice hast thou
Seemed strange—though I have half forgot.

ADELLE.
Alas, I know not how it was. Meseemed
That sudden I was not, another stood
Here in my place, and looked on thee and feared;
Finding thee strange and far, and all thy glory
Mocked and made hideous. Then there came fire
And flame across my brain.

AUVERGNE.
And then?

ADELLE.
Then once again I saw thee as thou art,
Even as thou standest here in majesty.

AUVERGNE.
That time I lost thee was the world to me
A darkness and a night.

ADELLE.
Darkness and fire was it to me!

AUVERGNE.
Sit thou and rest, 'tis past. [She seats herself near him.]

ADELLE.
Certain I am not well. Behind mine eyes
Fire and ice succeed each other. Nay,
'Tis gone.

AUVERGNE.
'Tis not the old disease, think you?

ADELLE.
Let me not think on it. Behold, my lord,
Here have I brought thee flowers from the vale,
Little blue lilies from the water brooks,
And roses drowned with dew; and mingled here
Are petals all of wax, which I have done,
Weaving therein the summer of my love.

AUVERGNE.
Star of the South, we render thanks to thee.

ADELLE.
Perfect are they, most perfect each to each,
As are our loves. Then wilt thou not, O King,
Make trial of thy wisdom? Which is wax,
And which the rain and sun?
[AUVERGNE goes to the window and opens it.]

AUVERGNE.
Come hither, tiny arbiters of the air,
Winged seekers of God's sweetness through the world,
And solve my riddle.

ADELLE.
Look, the clouds break! The sun, O King!

AUVERGNE.
The sun? [ADELLE stands by the window and looks at the sun. The bees come in
at the window.]
Behold, they settle where the rose is sweet.
Did I not know, sweetness and truth are one?
Look how the bees have judged. Alas,
That in this world men know not true from false,
I know it not, tho I am king.
[Suddenly ADELLE tears away her veil and shrieks.]

ADELLE.
Oh, oh!

AUVERGNE.
What ails my queen? Hath the sun maddened thee?

ADELLE.
That fire again! And now a stranger walks
Within the chamber of my brain, to drive
Me hence. A woman like to me but strange.
Oh!—come thou not near me—touch me not!
Help, Sister! [She runs toward the door at the back.]

SISTER.
Daughter———

ADELLE.
Save me, O God, save me!

SISTER.
Nay, calm thee, calm thee, what seest thou?

ADELLE.
I saw a cloud pass from the earth! Look, look,
Oh, am I mad,—or is it he that's mad?
Is it not he, my cousin, there, Auvergne?
That walks distractedly with robe and crown
In mockery of state? Is 't not Gawain,
The poor fool sobbing by the door, whose face
Is like a beast's? [GAWAIN wails as he crouches by the door.]

AUVERGNE.
Silence thy crying in our court, thou dog!
Who is this woman glowering at me
That rends our court with noise?

SISTER.
Wilt thou not come with me?

ADELLE.
Look where his great eyes burn like stars! Alas,
Sister, I fear him.

SISTER.
Fear not.

ADELLE.
That veil, these rings—O, Christ, I see at last!
I was as that, and Thou hast shriven me,
O horrible, most horrible!

AUVERGNE.
Depart, out of my sight, give place, give place,
Lest I should drive ye forth———

SISTER.
Come———

ADELLE.
Auvergne, alas, Auvergne!
[ADELLE and the SISTER hasten out, and GAWAIN follows them,
cowering with fear. AUVERGNE falls on his knees by the window, beating his
breast.]

AUVERGNE.
Hear, me, O God, alone I turn to Thee,
Let not the honor of Thy servant fail,
Let not my glory nor my kingdom pass.
What is that face upon the wind, O God?
Whither is my Beloved fled, oh, whither!

ACT II.

Seven days have passed. The windows are dark. Outside, the wind around
the towers eddies and moans, and brings the sound of breakers and far-off danger
bells. The flame of the candles in the chamber burns steady and straight.
AUVERGNE lies propped on his pillow, his eyes closed. At the back of the
room, GAWAIN crouches against the wall, muttering to himself. ADELLE and
the SISTER attendant stand watching at the bedside.

ADELLE.
Alas, he hath lain so these seven days,
Shattered and moaning, and his weary heart
Stolen from him into the vales of Sheba!

SISTER.
How perfect is this shadow unto him.

ADELLE.
Surely, O Sister, these imaginings,
These images of life, and life are one.

SISTER.
God doeth all things well.

ADELLE.
I know not easily this God of yours.
The cloud He sent on me hath rendered Him
Shadowy, blurred, an image like the rest.

SISTER.
Hush, child, thou speakest rashly.

ADELLE.
Is 't justly done, think you, that on this man
Fall Doom and Death where other men escape.

SISTER.
Hath he not had his joys also? For God
Evens the scales of life.

ADELLE.
Have I not told thee how, while yet a boy,
He could not rein his soaring heart, but sped
Like a white star, feeding upon itself.
His mind was as a heaven of golden fires,
And there beyond lurked darkness and the void.
Wisdom he chose, the cloudy heights of thought,
And following there, so snapped the chord that bound
His feet to the common earth, and reason failed—
Reason the traitor failed him in his need.

SISTER.
Reason is soonest spared. Sooner than love,
Hope, and the unfailing trust.

ADELLE.
Wherefore pursuing wisdom he becomes
Wise Solomon, and is no more Auvergne,
My mother's cousin. And his kingly thought,
Above the dun realities of fact,
Hath seen the glory of the world and drunk
The wine of dreams—how mid his sorry state,
Hath majesty, enthroned within his thought,
Made glorious the record of his days!

SISTER.
The glory and the pomp of shadows.

ADELLE.
The ideal grace, the unsullied Orient
Are his.

SISTER.
Have I not seen this splendor?

ADELLE.
Yea, faithful thou hast been through all the years
To him and him and—and to me, when I
Grovelled and bit the dust of shame.

GAWAIN. [At the back.]
Our cousin grants us leave to make our shroud,
Shall not the glowworm light my chamber then?

[Sings.]
His shadow moveth to his grave,
Kneel where he lies, ladie,
His cold lips kiss the ear of death,
Close down his eyes, ladie!

SISTER.
Poor, poor wretch!

ADELLE.
God's justice toucheth not his case, this child,
This thriving death, my cousin Gawain there.
He hath not lived, but entered life as dead.

GAWAIN.
Let them not fall, lo, there are leaves, black leaves,
Falling, down through the air upon his bed.

SISTER. [Touching his arm.]
Hush, thy cousin lies dying!

GAWAIN.
Canst thou not light more candles?

SISTER.
'Tis light here. There darkness lies, beyond.

GAWAIN.
Sister, beyond the window, look, oh, look,
I see the souls of men shuddering in darkness.

AUVERGNE.
Who is she that looketh forth as the morning?
The rose of Sharon, the lily of the valleys?
My Beloved is gone from me and hath departed.
As a lily among thorns, so was my love
Among the daughters, oh, return, return,
That I may look upon thee.

ADELLE.
Alas, canst thou not sleep?

AUVERGNE.
The glory of my court is gone.

ADELLE.
Auvergne, Auvergne, Auvergne, thou hast but dreamed—
Cousin, thou hast but dreamed.

AUVERGNE.
There are threescore queens and virgins without number,
But she is one. Seest thou not there
The women dead for my Beloved's sake?

ADELLE.
I see but pictures cut in twain, Auvergne.
Thou wanderest in a dream.

AUVERGNE.
My Beloved is mine till the day break
And the shadows flee away.
Oh, return, return that I may look upon thee.

ADELLE.
Can naught be done?

SISTER.
Nothing.

AUVERGNE.
Send me mine end, O God, weary am I,
Weary and most weary of my realm.

ADELLE.
Naught?

SISTER.
Naught.

AUVERGNE.
Wilt thou not come again?

ADELLE.
Spare me, O God, spare me, O God! Do Thou
Let me be mad again to comfort him,
For I have killed him.

SISTER.
Nay, thou hast not killed him!

AUVERGNE.
Day after day, and weary years are come,
But not my love.

ADELLE.
Show me O God, how I may come to him!

SISTER.
Perhaps the garments thou didst wear, the veil—
If thou wouldst put them on again———

ADELLE.
The garments of my shame, oh, never, never,—
To wrap my flesh in madness once again
And shame———

SISTER.
Pray thee heed not my foolish words, my daughter,
Strayed was my thought—to comfort him—I did
Forget thine agony.

AUVERGNE.
What is my sin, O Lord, that thou hast sent
This sorrow on me?

ADELLE.
Madness again, I cannot, oh, I cannot———

AUVERGNE.
Alas, forever and forever———

ADELLE.
I must, I will, though I be wrapped with flame!
Speak thou to him.

SISTER.
I may not speak for tears.

ADELLE.
O King, O Solomon, hear me, even now
She cometh out of Sheba.

AUVERGNE.
Open the gates that she may enter in,
Open the gates to my Beloved.

[ADELLE goes out.]

AUVERGNE.
Look forth, Beloved, on Jerusalem,
Lo, where the towers and the gilded spires
Make lightnings of the moon, and the night lies
Softer than sleep upon the town. A star
Is in the west, sinking; but thou art mine.
As the moon amid the fading stars art thou
Among the daughters, O Beloved!

GAWAIN.
Is the king sick unto death?

SISTER.
His eyes are glassed with death already.
[ADELLE enters with the veil and wreath. She falls on her knees beside
him, and beats her breast.]

ADELLE.
Here, here am I, here, here beside thee—Sheba!

SISTER.
His eyes move not.

ADELLE.
What have I done? Let me be mad in truth,
Madness again were better than this pain.

GAWAIN. [Breaking into a laugh.]
Ha, ha, I see a flame upon the mere
That bloweth seaward.

SISTER.
Hush, Gawain!

GAWAIN.
The little soul flickers on the wave.

ADELLE.
Lo, I am come, O King, the Queen of Sheba!

SISTER.
He hears thee not. Hearken the wind!

AUVERGNE.
Mark how the trumpets blow around the walls,
I will go out to meet my love.

ADELLE.
Alas, that I were mad, for I have slain him!
Auvergne, Prince! King!—O God—!

SISTER.
He hears thee not, his eyes are set.

AUVERGNE.
Till the day break and the shadows flee away,
Oh, return, return, that I may look upon thee.





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