Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, VITA; AN ALLEGORICAL DRAMA, by GRACE DENIO LITCHFIELD


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

VITA; AN ALLEGORICAL DRAMA, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: O most mighty, most glorious
Last Line: With their arms entwined.)
Subject(s): Courts & Courtiers; Plays & Playwrights ; Royal Court Life; Royalty; Kings; Queens; Dramatists


PERSONAGES

TIME, Guardian of Truth
VITA, Daughter of Time
TRUTH
HAPPINESS
FAITH}Attendants of Vita
CARE}Attendants of Vita
MALICE}Attendants of Vita
HOPE, a Sorceress
HISTORY, a Herald
THREE COURTIERS
CHORUS OF THE DAYS

ACT I

(SCENE I—Throne-room in the palace of TIME. Chorus—seven
maidens hand in hand—surrounding the throne. TIME seated in state
upon it.)
CHORUS:
O most mighty, most glorious,
Most high, most victorious,
Most ancient of birth!
O Monarch supremest!
O Power extremest
And gentlest of Earth!

Who are we to adore thee?
What are all things before thee
But drops in a river
That hastes to be tossed in thee,
Left in thee, lost in thee,
For ever and ever!

O Ruler of Ages,
Awarder of wages
To the cycles in round!
We grow faint in thy glory,
O Sovereign hoary,
Star-girdled, sun-crowned!

(The music becomes softer and softer and the maidens disappear with the last
line, their song still sounding faintly in the distance. Enter HISTORY.)
HISTORY: Hail, Master!
TIME: Thou art welcome, History.
Whence comest thou?
HISTORY: From every whither home.
TIME: What hast thou gleaned?
HISTORY: Both good and evil.
TIME: Much
I trow of evil, but yet more of good,
Else hast thou falsely garnered. Sift thine hoard.
HISTORY: There have been mighty wars.
TIME: I will note down
Their chieftains. Be the rest forgot. Pass on.
HISTORY: One fell for whom a stricken world makes moan.
TIME: I will replace him.
HISTORY: All the earth is red
And sick with blood.
TIME: I will remantle it
With peace and flowers.
HISTORY: There live who best were dead.
TIME: I will o'ertake them.
HISTORY: A new creed is born.
TIME: I will examine it.
HISTORY: A genius dies
Unrecognised.
TIME: I will embalm his name.
HISTORY: A villain walks in honour.
TIME: I will brand
His tomb.
HISTORY: Men toil.
TIME: I will bring rest to each.
HISTORY: Men weep.
TIME: I will bring all forgetfulness.
Hast more?
HISTORY: But this. One seeketh Truth of thee.
TIME: Thinks he to look on Truth and live?
HISTORY: He dares.
TIME: Whence cometh he?
HISTORY: Man knows not whence nor when,
Nor more than that Earth names him Happiness.
TIME: I know him of repute, but not of form.
I have not looked on him since Earth was young,
And have grown old in watching for him. Go.
(Exit HISTORY.)
Ha, this imports in very deed! He comes—
He whom I could not summon at my will,
Nor bend to my control! He comes at last,
Albeit not in homage; seeking Truth,
Of me, her long-time guardian, makes his claim.
Fool! Fool! Have they who sought her of me found?
Have they who begged her of me won their prayer?
Not yet! Men cry out: Truth! Oh, give us Truth!
And know not what they cry for. Did I yield,—
Did I at their insistence bring her forth
And set her in the midst of them, ablaze
With the bareness of her splendour,—why, how then?
Not yet is Earth attempered unto Truth.
Men hold their cursèd idols all too close
To their false hearts to meet her face to face,
To take her by the hand, and say: Be mine!
What throne so high is, she might sit thereon,
Nor dim the crown of him she sat beside?
What fane so pure is, she might kneel within
Nor show their garments spotted who made prayer?
What love so bright she would not tarnish it—
What art so rich she would not beggar it
With but a glance? Go to! The day 's not ripe
For her revealing. Truth is dangerous
To hearts unaccoladed to her touch.
She shall not forth.
(Enter VITA.)

TIME: Thou, Vita?
VITA: Father, hail.
TIME: Fitly thy coming chimeth with desire.
Here 's joy for thee.
VITA: Ripe fruits hang not o'er long.
I plucked thy word in coming. Grateful was 't
To my life's thirst.
TIME: How came my word to thee?
VITA: Methinks my heart did hear before mine ears.
They catch light sounds who hark for Happiness.
TIME: Then listen close. For soft as step of sun
On cushioned sward—noiseless as rush of star
Across night's azure—still as stir of leaf
Unfurling to the spring—so Happiness
Comes to this world of watchers, so goes by,
Unheard.
VITA: What boots it then I waste slow years
Mistaking mine own pulse-beats for his call?
Great Father, giver of gifts, my being crown!
Bid Happiness be mine!
TIME: This may I not.
VITA: How may'st thou not? What wonder-working will
Can bar the consequence of thy command?
Are not all born thy slaves?
TIME: All save this one,
Who nor my vassal is, nor names me Lord.
VITA: Thou mock'st! Art not supreme?
TIME: There is no power
But hath its bound. Albeit my law obtains
From this pale globe to Heaven's remotest sun,
Here stays my rule. Here ends my sovereignty.
VITA: Thou nam'st thy greatness and thy nothingness
In the one breath. What hath that power of worth
Which doth possess all excellence save one
That is the essence and the sum of all?
Father, I will have Happiness! I will!
Give thou me Happiness! Give, give! oh give!
TIME: Leave off thine importunities. Weak prayers,
Blown by vain winds against the impossible,
Make shipwreck and are lost.
VITA: But wherefore then
Comes Happiness so near, if not to me?
Better afar, than nigh and yet not mine!
More blest is he who ne'er knew Happiness,
Than he who buys the knowledge with the loss.
TIME: Not so, while memory thereof endures,
Gilding life's desert with its afterglow.
VITA: To live in light of a remembered joy
Is through enduring dusks to mourn the sun.
Whose eyes shall drink their fill of Happiness
While mine go starved?
TIME: The clear, wide eyes of Truth.
VITA: Truth! Truth! I love her not!
TIME: Bestir thee then
To win thee Happiness. Behold, are not
The days of all thy life within thy hands
To mould them as thou wilt for good or ill?
Thyself, and naught outside thee, is thy fate.
That thou becomest shapes thy destiny.
Be strong. Be just, unconquerable, true.
Make Happiness thine own.
VITA: So fair a prize
What hand could choose but reach for, though to miss?
Deem me not over-bold, but dutiful,
That wish out-leaps to action. Happiness
Shall yet be mine—Oh, joy!—shall be mine own—
Mine own! oh, joy—joy—joy!
TIME: Oh, blinded heart
And poor! Oh, falsest vision! Happiness
Comes not at call, depends not on desire,
Matches no dream, to no man's measure fits.
Not they who seek are they who find. Not they
Who ask, receive. But they who neither look
Nor long for guerdon, they who largely live,
Freed from self's narrow shackles by a love
Broad as humanity, whose every thought
Is a white deed, for joy of serving done—
To these, unheralded, unrecognised
Save in that inmost shrine where burns his light,
To these comes Happiness, to these brings Heaven.—
Thou foolish heart and vain! Pass on. Pass on.
(Exeunt.)

(SCENE II—VITA'S apartments. FAITH, CARE, and MALICE winding
wreaths.)

CARE: Our Mistress tarries.
FAITH: Nay, she cometh soon.
MALICE: I'll leave off labour till she nighs. What need
To prick my fingers in her absence?
CARE: Whence,
That thou may'st idle must we doubly toil?
How think'st thou, Faith?
FAITH: We shall have double joy
In her approval of the ended task.
Speed thee, good Care. She surely cometh soon.
MALICE: Wherefore her haste, when she may stay and stuff
Her hungry ears with news of Happiness?
CARE: O Heavens! I would I were a queen!
MALICE: Naught more?
Plait thee a galling crown of thy life's thorns,
And wear them regally in all men's sight
Upon thy brow, in lieu of next thy heart;
Thus shalt thou ape Earth's queens. To be high-placed,
Is to become a puppet in a show,
Who but for men's diversion, moves, speaks, weeps,
Wearing its feelings, like its tawdry gems,
Outside for coarse-grained multitudes' applause.

FAITH: Heed not when Malice mocks. To be a queen
Is to make sorrow royal in degree,
And mirth most generous, since nations share it.
Why would'st thou be a queen?
CARE: That Happiness
Might reach e'en me. Methinks one only smile,
Dropped on my life like sunshine on a seed,
Would ripen flowers to blossom. But a maid
So lowly born as I—how should I dream
Of Happiness?
MALICE: Dream not. A pity 't is
When high-strung hearts be joined to low-tuned lives.
It doth put Nature out of harmony.
FAITH: Nay, keep thy lofty longings. They are stars
To steer by as we climb the road to Heaven.
I, too, have dreamed of Happiness;—such dreams!—
So fair they made a very day of night.
Such dreams! Such dazzling, full, sufficient dreams
I am content in the remembering them.
MALICE: 'T is a thin soul that feeds on shadows.
CARE: Hush!
Our Mistress!
(Enter VITA. The maidens spring to offer her flowers, and place garlands
about her dress.)
VITA: Haste! And ply your uttermost
Of skill. I would be fair this day. A glass!
FAITH (kneeling before her and looking lovingly up at her): I'll be thy
glass to tell thee thou art fair.
MALICE (to VITA): Because she thinks as thou dost, being so true
A reflector of thyself! Thy mirror, sure,
Doth prove thee fairest with none other by.
CARE: Too pale, too wan thou art. And here 's a tress
Shall soon show silver for its wonted gold.
VITA: Where? Where? Must I already flaunt Time's flag?
FAITH: Dear Lady, I will lay the wreaths so close
Naught else may show.
VITA: Ay, wrap me up in bloom.
Hide my poor faults with fragrant overgrowths.
Touch every blemish with such tender art
It turn to beauty, making me more fair
For glory of misfortunes garlanded.
MALICE: Fittest were roses with their thorny sweets,
For such disguisement.
VITA: Bring my richest robe.
FAITH (bringing mantle): Ere dawns the morrow, richer may this be
For joys it shall to-day inherit.
MALICE: Nay,
If garments keep the good of bygone hours,
Then rags be choicest vestment for a prince.
CARE (examining mantle): Here soon shall be a rent. Here lurks a stain.
MALICE: Where tears fell, likest.
FAITH: The more surely then
Are smiles erelong to follow. Whilst it storms,
May seers be boldest in predicting sun.
VITA: My jewel case!
CARE (turning over the jewels): Alas! Here lacks a gem.
VITA (fastening on necklace): Doth this become me?
MALICE: Troth, as dew the briar.
VITA (fastening on different jewels): And these?
CARE: Thou wilt o'erload thyself. Thy love
Will know not if he look on gems or thee.
VITA: That love which doth not see me in my gems,
Distinguishing the fashion of my soul
Through all the outward trickery of dress
And mummery of custom, holding these
As part of me and not disguise of me,
That love were small worth having.
MALICE: Why, in truth,
If thou and these thy jewels make but one,
Now art thou well worth loving.
VITA: Prithee, peace,
Thou wasp-tongued Malice!
MALICE: Heed! Thy love may hear,
And hold thy speech to be such part of thee,
He choose not take thee with it. (Going) Ah, vain fool,
Decking thy poor conceit with buds and gems!
May Happiness be lured with baits like these?
(Exit.)
CARE: I doubt there's such a thing as Happiness.
'T is but the name of some dear, hopeless hope
That men do bind their souls with when they bleed,
To stay the bleeding, though it heal them not.
I'll think no more on Happiness. The dream
Hath sure no mating with reality.
(Exit.)
VITA: My heart turns chill with sudden doubt, as when
A drifting cloud, eclipsing the sweet sun,
Drops its cold shadow o 'er a startled land.
O Faith, is verily the world so void?
Is there no Happiness this side of Heaven?
Does Death hold life's whole guerdon? Speak! Oh, speak!
FAITH: Ah, Lady, have I knowledge more than thou?
The world is vast, and all its vexing roads
Round out through darkness to an unseen goal,
While men grope here and there with helpless hands,
Crying: Lo this—lo that—is Happiness!
And clutch at strangest phantoms. Yet somewhere—
I needs believe it, or the doubt would kill,—
Somewhere, e'en here, is a true Happiness
That true hearts find and live by. The good God
Withholds not all His gifts from Earth for Heaven.
VITA: O Faith, thou sweetest voice to dumbest souls,
Thou lantern-light to stumbling feet,—abide,
Abide thou with me now and evermore!
(Enter CARE and MALICE.)
MALICE: Lo, Happiness approacheth!
VITA: Ah, then, go!
Leave me! Go all! I fain would be alone
To dream that dream ecstatic which precedes
The waking of attainment.
FAITH: Dream in peace.
(Exit.)
CARE: Nay, rouse thee from thy trance! Is Happiness
So lightly thine,—so swiftly, surely won?
VITA: Let the fear lie. Why fret the living hour
With dread of unborn moments?
MALICE: Blind, oh, blind!
To Truth, not thee, he comes. Since when proved Truth
So mean a rival?
VITA: Truth is hidden deep.
Not his to find her.
MALICE: But who seeks for Truth.
Is lost to thee.
VITA: Yet sure he goes not far.
CARE: Thou hast deep drunken at Faith's fount. Beware
Thy hope imperil not thy caution.
MALICE: Ay,
No prayer can stay him an he choose to go;
Yet if he go, no hope may follow him.
VITA: Ah, if he leave me, could my charmèd feet
Refrain from following after in the trace
However faint and far of Happiness?
MALICE: There is no path so all-intolerable
As that we tread where Happiness hath been
And is not.
VITA: Prithee keep thy bitter thoughts
For thine own soul's digesting, and go hence!
Why augur loss of what not yet I have?
What though the dream prove vain? It is most sweet;
And I will feast upon it while it lasts,
Nor brook starvation in its turn the worse!
I will not hearken more. Away! Go! Go!
CARE: I go. But not for long.
(Exit.)
MALICE: I will be nigh.
(Exit.)
VITA (alone): Now beauteous dream, return! Now steep my soul
In Earth's divinest rapture—Happiness
Not fully come, but speeding on bright wings
Across the boundless desert of desire,
So swiftly there 's but space to say: I wait!
So surely there's no doubt to mar; yet still
Too far to surfeit with possession; like
That royal hunger heralding a feast,
Which waxes poorer for the feeding o' it.
Ah, very heart of ecstasy—to know
Fulfilment nigh, yet still anticipate!
(Enter HAPPINESS.)
HAPPINESS: Not here!
VITA (trembling): O Heavens! Can this be Happiness?
HAPPINESS: Am I so strange to look upon that one
Should know me not? I pray thee, where is Truth?
VITA: Nay, hold! How know'st thou Truth?
HAPPINESS: Through love of her.
VITA: How camest thou to love her?
HAPPINESS: Seeking her,
I loved her.
VITA: Thou wilt find her not.
HAPPINESS: I shall.
VITA: Then stay! Give o'er the quest! For I am she.
HAPPINESS: Soil not thy sweet mouth with so sad a lie.
Farewell.
VITA: Stay! Stay! How knowest thou I lie?
HAPPINESS: Because thou art not Truth.
VITA: How canst thou know?
Nor thou nor any ever has seen Truth.
Am I not fair enough?
HAPPINESS: Too fair by far,
In outward ornament.
VITA (flinging off jewels): O Cruel! What!
Am I not sweet enough?
HAPPINESS: Too sweet by far.
With borrowed beauty.
VITA (tearing off flowers): O Inexorable!
Am I not rich enough?
HAPPINESS: Too rich by far
In all that is not thee.
VITA (throwing off mantle): Inhuman! Look!
Look on me now! Am I not bare enough,
And poor enough and plain enough for Truth?
HAPPINESS: Too plain, too poor, too bare. Truth in herself
Lacks nothing. Thou in everything lack'st Truth.
VITA: Truth! Truth! I hate her! And she is not fair!
For I have seen her—seen she is not fair!
HAPPINESS: Thou hast seen Truth?
VITA: Oh, long—oh, long ago,
In days when still I knew there was a God,
And that the stars meant Peace and sometime Heaven.
And then I saw her, and she then was fair,
But not so fair I long desired her;
And soon I did with loathing put her far,
And turn mine eyes from her and speak her not,
And hate her with worst hatred.
HAPPINESS: Oh, forsworn
The eyes that having looked on Truth, see aught,
Love aught besides save Truth for ever more!
Lo, I have seen her not; yet shrined within
Mine inmost soul her holy image lies,
Peerless, transcendent, perfect, holding me
From thought and breath, save thought and breath for her.
Where bideth she?
VITA: I know not. Time long since
Concealed her, and I wearied not to seek,
Cared not to know. What matters it to me,
Who have one passion only in my breast,
A riotous love, beating through tortured veins—
A fierce mad flame—a lurid gluttonous fire
Of devastating glory—a white heat
Of living death that robes me as for Heaven
In blinding light, to leave me at the last
A thing of ashes in a world-wide waste!
HAPPINESS: I pity thee. And so farewell again.
VITA: Nay, nay! oh, stay! oh, leave me not—not now—
Dear Happiness! One little moment more
Let me but look on thee, let me but fill
Mine eyes so full of the rare sight of thee,
They hold thee in thine absence uneffaced!
HAPPINESS: Peace come to thee. And a third time farewell.
VITA (kneeling): O God! O God! May I entreat Thee not?
Must I see Happiness depart from me,
Nor fling such mighty prayers out on the way
He dare not pass them? Let me bind him down
With prayers, with linked petitions laid so close
He cannot leave me!
HAPPINESS: Peace, poor Vita, peace!
No prayer so perfect is, no faith so strong
It can lay lasting hold on Happiness.
I go. Forbear thy weeping. Tears are wings
That speed my going. Fare thee well.
(Exit.)
VITA: Gone! Gone!
And all my heart cries out: For ever!—What?
Weep not?—I will pierce Heaven with my cries!
Will storm God's Throne with clamorous appeal,
Compelling mercy for my wretchedness!
O God, was it so much I asked of Thee
Thou could'st not grant it to a lifetime's suit?
Would it have beggared Thee of Happiness
Bestowing but this single boon I craved?
Hear! Hear! Or art Thou deaf, and Heaven so far
All prayers fall short of Thee? Did'st Thou concede
Me being, but that I might curse the gift?
Can Thy omnipotence do naught, save stamp
Self-consciousness of frailty on me? Nay,
Not so I learned to know Thee—oh, not so!
They told me God meant Mercy, Patience, Love,
And infinite Compassion,—not Despair!—
Not a divine Inexorability
Rebellious souls should beat and break against
In weak antagonism!—O God—O God—
Forgive the hatred of a broken heart!
Forgive the madness of a misery
That knows not what it speaks! Forgive! Forgive!
(Enter MALICE, FAITH and CARE.)
MALICE: I heard thee from afar. What mean thy cries?
FAITH (raising up VITA): Oh, my loved mistress, what hath come to thee?
CARE (picking up jewels): Shattered and bruised beyond repair!
VITA: Ay. Ay.
Like hearts that soared too high, and falling, broke.
FAITH (gathering up the flowers): Nay, see, these yet are sweet.
VITA: Like scattered hopes
That shall not bloom again through all the years;
Yet sweet—ay, perilous sweet unto the end.
FAITH (lifting the mantle): And this; thou yet canst wear it.
VITA (dashing it off): Never more!
There leave it to be trodden underfoot!
Never again shall I stand decked in gems
And flowers, and plume me on my sumptuousness!
The dream is broken, and the charm mis-wrought.
Poor flowers (lifting them). So slight? so frail? that yet me-seemed
Fit snares for Happiness! Poor futile gems!
(Raising them.)
So valueless? Oh, ineffectual wealth!
(Spurning them with her foot.)
How worthless, ah, how vain—how impotent
To win me Happiness!
FAITH: Nay then, dear Heart,
Is Happiness too far to follow?
VITA: Ay.
Faint hearts are leaden-soled. He is too far.
MALICE: Too far. Nor ever is too near to miss.
FAITH: O Mistress, would'st thou seek? I go with thee.
VITA: Ah me, but whither go—but whither turn?
How follow footsteps that have left no trace?
MALICE: He sure goes free of heart that treads so light!
VITA: In quest of Truth he went.
FAITH: Then seeking Truth,
Must we find Happiness.
CARE: The way is far.
FAITH: But Time shall lead us, and an end must be.
VITA: Ay, let us go. Although the way be long,
Were failure bitterer at life's blunted end
Than at its keen beginning? There our chance!
Better to risk content on the poor hope
Of winning more, than stay ourselves on less.
Go. Go. Make ready. Long the journey looms.

(SCENE I—A forest. Night. HAPPINESS alone.)
HAPPINESS: O Truth, where art thou? In the whole wide heaven
Is there no polar star that points to thee
Immovably, through all of lapsing time?—
No magnet in the whole vast universe
To draw to thee through trackless distances?
O Truth, hast thou no voice to call to me
Athwart the dark, that I come where thou art?
No clue to aid me—no firm woven thread
To guide me through life's starless labyrinth?
Truth, answer! Art thou living whom I seek?
Or art thou but a name—a phantom thing
To lure men to destruction with false show?
Nay! Nay! Thou livest! Every star that sends
Its conquering ray across night's black abysm—
Each sea that, torn with infinite desire,
Stretches its seeking arms out toward the shore—
Each storm that sweeps, magnificent and bold,
With fringe of lightning, scimitar of rain
And crown of massive darkness, like a king
Across the humbled land—each summer eve
That pours its stillness and its angel calm
Upon the restless pulses of the day—
Each is thy witness, each thine evidence,
Speaking in utterance distinct and clear
To the blest soul that loves thee, blest enough
In that it love thee, though it find thee not.
But I will win! No height so dizzy is,
No precipice so sheer, gulf so profound,
Gloom so intense that it shall fright me back!
With love to light me, reason for a staff
And God for Guide, how fail of Truth's award?
Courage, faint heart! Wing thy slow feet with prayer,
Lift thy bowed head, and onward to the goal!
(Exit.)
(Enter TIME, VITA, and COURT.)
HISTORY: It hath been said of him he passed by here.
CARE: Oh, sorry guide, who present hope would hale
From so dead past! Hath ever it been told
That Happiness returned the way he went?
VITA: Methought I saw him but a moment since.
TIME: Thou should'st have held the moment. Fled, may Time
With utmost swiftness no more reach thereto.
FAITH: Then let it pass. Another comes as sweet.
1ST COURTIER: Whither went Happiness?
2D COURTIER: This way!
3D COURTIER: No, this!
2D COURTIER: Sure, here are tracks of him.
3D COURTIER: Sure, here he stayed.
1ST COURTIER: Surest of all, here is he not!
TIME: Pass. Pass.
COURTIERS: Which way?
TIME: Forward. I turn not back.
VITA: Ah me,
Could'st thou but conjure from the dead that hour
When I beheld him, though he was not mine,
Should I lack more?
FAITH: Dear Mistress, take thou heart!
Thou yet shall see him, though the night be drear,
And the way long that bring thee.
MALICE: Long! Long!
TIME: Pass.
1ST COURTIER: Hold, hold! methinks—
2D COURTIER: I would make sure—
3D COURTIER: One glance—
TIME: Pass.
(Exit COURTIERS slowly).
HISTORY: Stay! The day is not yet written—
TIME: Pass.
(Exit TIME and HISTORY, the chorus, too, moving off as it sings.)
CHORUS:
So they pass, so they pass
The sweet moments, alas!
Tiny seeds of Eternity
Summoned to birth;
From the fields of Infinity
Falling to earth.
So they pass, so they pass,
Like a breath on the glass,
Like a thought in a dream,
Like a meteor's gleam,
Holding all mortal time
As a word holds a rhyme,
As a heart holds desire.
Yet though nothing is done in them,
Nothing is won in them,
Nothing begun in them
Ere they expire,
Will they bide with us longer
For prayers that wax stronger?
Nor darkness crawl after
Through tears, or through laughter?
Nay, death will delay not.
The moments will stay not.
Amort and adrift
As blown leaves in a lane,
Evanescent and swift
As the lightning through rain,
So they pass, so they pass,
While men cry out, alas!
(Exit CHORUS.)
VITA: Oh, woe! Oh, woe! What treasured joys are theirs
Who thus bewail life's passing? Time is long,
And Grief is slow, and Death is tardy-paced
To him whose years hang on his neck like beads
That he needs tell off one by one in turn,
With prayers and moans and scourgings unto blood,
Ere he may break his fast.
MALICE: With bitter herbs!
CARE: Longest is life to him who counts the time
Betwixt his labour and the recompense;
To him who pays the bread of yesterday
With this day's toil; to him whose bursting brain
Travails in sleep, and works across its dreams,
And knows no Seventh Day from year to year.
The weeping doth forget his grief in sleep.
The hungry dreams, and sitteth at a feast.
For sick men there grow drugs to dull the pain.
But for the anxious man, the man of cares,
Nature provides no anodyne.
MALICE: Save death.
VITA: All lives are long. The babe that lives an hour,
Hath too much time to weep in.
MALICE: Not enough
To learn to smile in.
FAITH: Nay, the soul that sees
The far, pure end of its creation—fair
To longing sight as flower on lifted stalk
Grown high above the marsh-land whence it sprang—
That soul delights in life, and finds time scant
For full achievement of allotted powers.
VITA: They must be either young or far in years
Who joy in life; the young because they still
See Earth athwart the light they brought from Heaven;
The old, because at closing of their day
Death lends his sunset glow to life's grey dome,
As last relief to long monotony.
But he who is not young, and ah, not old,
Who living through youth's exquisite deceits
Has reached the Desert of Reality,
And feels its arid winds upon him, sees
Its white hot dust, its cruel nudity,
Yet knows no outcome save the path that leads
Across its dreariness to far-off Death—
Shall such an one love Life?
FAITH: 'T is piteous
How men forget a thousand present joys
Remembering a single pain that pricked,
And overlook a myriad flowers in bloom
For grief of one bruised bud! Be not thou so.
Nor think thyself elected from thy mates
To royal wretchedness. For Sorrow keeps
No separating throne where one may sit,
Crowned with distinction of surpassing pain,
To rule his kind by might of suffering.
In sorrow all are equal, though men flaunt
Their martyrdom before the world, or wear
Their sackcloth hidden under festal robes.
Then, prithee, smile as thou wert wont to smile!
Doth Nature not go through her round the same
From year to year, and find as many flowers
To deck this Spring with as she found the last?
Yet she hath wept between times. So thou, too,
Sweet Lady, cast thy dead woe off. Be glad.
VITA: Can one be happy, without Happiness?
FAITH: Ay. Thou hast looked on Happiness. Enough.
Thou hast henceforth the memory thereof.
MALICE: Why, if thy heart be set on Happiness,
Pursue thou not the search? I know of one
Who sure will aid thee, though all others fail.
VITA: Thou dost? And whom?
MALICE: That ancient Sorceress,
Who with her magic and her muttered charms
Holds half the known world spellbound.
VITA: Who is she
Thus potent?
MALICE: Hope.
VITA: Bring me to her straightway.
FAITH: O Lady, pause! I know her. She is old
And potent truly, but may play thee false.
Not all who seek of Hope win Happiness!
CARE: I know Hope not. The very name is strange.
MALICE: And hadst thou sooner known her, thou wert now
Less age-worn. She hath wondrous mysteries
That, rightly used, do keep one young for aye.
VITA: Where lives she?
FAITH: O sweet Mistress, trust her not!
VITA: Why now, what frights thee? She who conquers Time
Must be a right rare witch! Bring me to her.
MALICE: Lady, this way.
(Exeunt VITA and MALICE.)
FAITH (going): Alas! Hope's very name
Hath wrought its spell! Needs must I follow her.
(Exit.)
(SCENE II—A heart-shaped cave. HOPE bending over a caldron.)
HOPE (sings):
Stir! Stir! The fire's ablaze!
Throw in Fancy's pungent sprays!
Sweet deceits and drugs that daze!
One part guile, and three parts craze—
Hope mixes well—well—well!

Stir! Stir! Skim off a tear!
Pluck away a scorching fear!
Strain a memory out here!
Lay a spicy maybe near!
It seasons well—well—well!

Stir! Stir! The caldron steams!
Pour in visions! Drop in dreams!
Fling in ecstasies, and gleams
Of a joy that madness seems!
It worketh well—well—well!

Stir! Stir! There 's time to spare!
Here a wish and there a prayer
Make a charm that well shall wear!
Though long weeping wash it bare,
It holdeth well—well—well!
(Enter VITA and MALICE.)
MALICE: Yonder is Hope, the Sorceress.
VITA: That, Hope?
So old is she?
MALICE: Ay, old as birth of man.
VITA: She hath strange eyes.
MALICE: They look out into mist.
VITA: She hath a marvellous expression. See.
Is 't Joy, or Dread, or Pain, or Wonderment,
Or uttermost Desire?
MALICE: All. It is Hope.
VITA: Will she be wroth if I bespeak her?
MALICE: Nay,
None hears more willingly. Call thou on her,
And I will wait without.
(Exit.)
VITA: Hope! Hope!
HOPE: I hear.
Hope never sleeps.
VITA: I need thee, Hope.
HOPE: Ay. Ay.
All need me.
VITA: But my need transcendeth all.
My frustrate life is done—abortive—dead.
Its stark days hang along Time's shrivelled stalk,
Blasted and unfulfilled, like frozen buds;
And I, while still I make my moan, am not.
HOPE: I will breathe life into thy life.
VITA: O Hope,
What were such gift but keener pain? Give more,
Or less.
HOPE: I will fill up thy heart with fire
That Death alone shall quench.
VITA: Nay, more, O Hope!
Would'st thou consume me with an inward flame,
Nor give it aught to feed on?
HOPE: It shall feed
Upon itself, yet thus consuming, grow.
VITA: What dost thou grant me but an appetite
Beyond this earth's appeasing? Give me more,
Else shall I die of longing's ecstasy,
And slow despair of gain.
HOPE: What is despair?
Longing I know, but know not of despair.
VITA: Teach me, too, to unlearn it!
HOPE: Where is Hope,
Is room for no despair. Dost thou want more?
VITA: This—this—but this! Oh, give me Happiness!
HOPE: The sum of all wants—Happiness. Ay. Ay.
Life's last best secret. Earth's impossible.
The finite's infinite! Poor fool. Poor fool.
VITA: Canst help me not?
HOPE: Yea, I can blind thine eyes
So thou shalt think thou graspest all of Heaven
With but the upward stretching of a hand.
Yea, I can bind such sandals to thy feet
That thou shalt walk o'er sword-blades rood on rood
To pluck a nettle, nor shalt feel the pain.
Yea, I can teach such bluntness to thine ears
That thou shalt hear no sound 'neath God's great sun,
Save the mad beatings of thy maddest heart!
VITA: Kind Heaven, protect me from such gifts, O Hope!
Hast thou but these?
HOPE: Nay, others. I have balm
To pluck the sting from heart-stabs. Drugs I have
Whereby grief sleeps, and weakness is made strength,
And fear engenders courage. I have charms
To lure the dying back to life, to keep
Hearts young for ever, glorify the dark,
And wreathe dead lips with smiles.
VITA: Canst do so much
Thou surely hast some magic yet unspent
That shall restore me Happiness again.
HOPE: What is thy Happiness? Age names it Youth.
Youth names it Folly; Folly, Ignorance,
And Ignorance, Supremacy. Poor soul!
But peace! Thou shalt find Happiness again.
VITA: Dost promise it? O Hope, I live anew!
And then?
HOPE: Peace, peace! What is thy Happiness?
VITA: A winged immortal.
HOPE: Take with thee this weed (giving it)
Wherewith if thou anoint his eyes but once,
He sees no more to fly. (Sings:)
Stir! Stir! Skim off a tear!
Pluck away a scorching fear!
Strain a memory out here!
Lay a spicy maybe near!
It seasons well—well—well!
VITA: He loves me not.
What gain I though he fold his wings? For, blind,
How see to love me?
HOPE: Love stark madness is.
Shed then these petals o'er him (giving blossom). They shall clear
His sight to lay his blindness on his brain. (Sings:)
Stir! Stir! The caldron steams!
Pour in visions! Drop in dreams!
Fling in ecstasies, and gleams
Of a joy that madness seems!
It worketh well—well—well!
VITA: But if he see again, yet having wings
And no more reason, how keep him mine own?
HOPE: O senseless soul! Then lay thou hold on him.
With the first touch of thine attaining hand
Shall Happiness become Reality.
Canst thou ask more?
VITA: Then let me die for bliss!
HOPE: Then, rather, curse not Hope's bedevilment. (Sings:)
Stir! Stir! The fire's ablaze!
Throw in Fancy's pungent sprays!
Sweet deceits and drugs that daze!
One part guile and three parts craze—
Hope mixes well—well—well!
VITA: Lo, how thou changest as I look on thee,
O Hope! Thou growest young and fair, most fair,
Most sweet and pleasant to the eye and soul.
HOPE (sings):
Stir! Stir! There's time to spare!
Here a wish and there a prayer
Make a charm that well shall wear!
Though long weeping wash it bare,
It holdeth well—well—well!
(HOPE disappears in the smoke of the caldron. The flame flashes up, dies
suddenly out, and all is dark and still.)
VITA (in terror): Faith! Faith! Where art thou?
(Enter FAITH, running.)
FAITH: Here, for ever here!
VITA (clinging to her): Leave thou me not! Hope was here, and is gone,
And the dead night breathes blackness and despair!

(SCENE—The forest. After midnight. VITA and the COURT.)
VITA (to HISTORY): Hast seen him?
HISTORY: Ay, we have seen trace of him.
VITA: Is that all one with seeing Happiness?
FAITH: Glimpses there have been of his wings afar.
1ST COURTIER: Methought I saw his form, but touched him not.
VITA: How seemed He?
1st COURTIER: Hung with golden ducats round;
Heavy with gold; a moving, yellow sheen;
A dazzling pyramid of wealth.
2D COURTIER: Why nay,
Not so he showed when once in some swift dream
I hailed him passing. He was fair and fine,
But pale and wan, and had a famished look.
Men called him Fame, methought.
3D COURTIER: And when I dreamed,
He wore a crown—bespattered, yet a crown,
And held a sceptre bare of garnishment,
But studded close with drops of ruby blood,
And had a grand strong look. Men named him Power.
Oh, he did draw me with that magnet look!
I would have given substance, honour, love—
All—to possess him! But he vanished swift,
And I came never nigh enough again
To be assured 't was he.
HISTORY: He hath a shape
Baffles defining, now comes masked as War,
And now as Tyranny.
CARE: I know him not;
But to my weary longing he should look
A dreamless, ageless Sleep, with slumbrous eyes,
And lips soft-closed on speech.
MALICE: Delusions all!
Delusions!
FAITH: I, too, dreamed of him, and dear
The dream, e'en if he not resemble it—
A gift of God, whate'er the vision be.
VITA: But I have seen him. And he is the one
Desirable of life—life's one Supreme.
And I have lost him! Endless shows the way,
And hard the road beneath untutored feet!—
The more unsufferable that he once
Hath passed this way.
2D COURTIER (to IST COURTIER): Look, friend, if thou first come
To Happiness, then give me of thy gold,
And I, when I reach fame, will render thee
The grace of having thus befriended one
In his obscurity.
3D COURTIER (to 1ST and 2D COURTIERS): And friends, if luck
Be yours, spare thou me of thy pelf, and thou
Loan me repute, and I, when come at last
Into mine own, will hold ye unforgot.
MALICE: He will remember to cut off your heads
Belike!
CARE (anxiously): It groweth late. How longer search?
HISTORY: If I do find him, I will close my book
And write no more.
3D COURTIER (to HISTORY): First, prithee, note my name.
Petty the rule ignored of History!
2D COURTIER: And mine, too, write, lest Fame's bay on my brow
Wither at death.
1ST COURTIER: And my poor name inscribe.
The richest is not rich, if all not know 't.
MALICE: Nor rich is he, than whom one richer lives.
CARE: And I, should chance wing Happiness my way,
Will ask no more than sleep's beatitude.
But not for me is rest, ah, not for me!
They who on laggard, unconsenting feet
Are driven from the lovely vale of Peace
To the chill highlands of Anxiety,
May nevermore revisit that green plain;
But like the bare tree on the mountain top,
Set as a beckoning sign for clouds and storms
And tossed by tireless winds while all else sleeps,
For ever after wake and watch and dread.
(Enter TIME.)
TIME: Who says for ever? Mine alone the word.
MALICE: What is not thine, save Happiness!
TIME: On! On!
CARE: O Heavens, where then to look for Happiness!
Where, where is Happiness!
MALICE: Beyond the grave.
(Exeunt CARE and MALICE.)
TIME: Who loiters that hath my command? On! On!
1ST COURTIER: I will get gold yet!
(Exit.)
2D COURTIER: And I yet win fame!
(Exit.)
3D COURTIER: And I will yet have power, or die therefor!
(Exit.)
FAITH: Did men seek Goodness with a tithe that zeal
Wherewith they labour after Happiness,
Who is there but should save his soul alive!
(Exit.)
TIME: The moment passes. Wanes the night. On! On!
For ever on!
HISTORY: Oh, tide with no reflux!
(Exit.)
TIME (to VITA): Thou movest not?
VITA (suddenly returning to TIME): Great Father, show me Truth!
TIME: Truth? Truth? Pray what would'st thou of Truth at last,
Who thy life long hast held apart from her,
Accounting her a thing of evil?
VITA: Nay,
I have not loved her since I first knew choice.
Nor do I now desire her. Nay, oh nay.
Save that by her I may win Happiness,
I ne'er should seek her—ne'er should ask to know
In what dark spot and far she lies consigned,
So from her luminous vision and deep gaze
I stood for aye secure! Yet what last test
Could fright me from the search for Happiness?
I would walk barefoot over blazing coals,
Of poisoned disappointments prick me full,
Starve—thirst—freeze—burn, be slaughtered piecemeal—ay,
Make life an hourly hell—all, all, and more,
For that poor chance of winning Happiness
In some far day I may not live to see!
Wherefore, if Truth bring me to Happiness,
Dare I face even Truth. I pray thee, then,
Give up thy long held secret! Where is Truth?
TIME: How may Truth help thee?
VITA: Happiness seeks Truth.
He loves her. Who beloved of Happiness
Will turn him a deaf ear? Hid ne'er so long,
Hid ne'er so deep, yet must he come to her,
Truth yet reveal herself to him who loves.
TIME: And what would'st thou against it?
VITA: Alas, what!
Thy words outstrip my thought. I but devise,
Knowing so surely Happiness must come
Where Truth may be, there to conceal myself
And bide his coming. So shall I once more
Behold him, once more know him near to me,
And for the rest—Hope aid me!
TIME: Hast thou Hope?
Then to gainsay were idle. Do thy will.
Who lists to Hope, hears never voice but hers.
VITA: Bring me to Truth then. Oh, how thou art slow
When wishes fly before thee, how art swift
When wishes follow! Tell me—where is Truth?
TIME (indicating a cave in front of which VITA is standing): Beside
thee.
VITA (starting back): Nay, not here! So close at hand!
So swiftly reached!
TIME: Not far need be their search,
Who seek her truly. Yonder darksome way
Leadeth to Truth and Light. Heaven comfort thee.
(Exit.)
(VITA draws back from the cave, and watching, presently sees HAPPINESS
approaching.)
VITA: Ha, none too soon! Lo, hither through the gloom,
Led by the lantern of his love and trust,
Comes Happiness. Now Hope, befriend me, Hope!
(She conceals herself among the trees. HAPPINESS draws near.)
HAPPINESS: Truth! Truth! No answer still? Thou art not far.
I feel thy holy heart-beats through the hush,
And know thou must be near. How come to thee?
The midnight is unmooned: the forest dense:
The way unsignalled, and I wander long.
Where art thou? I have asked the stars for thee—
They whose pure eyes earth's darkest secrets pierce.
I asked thee of the winds, whose odorous wings,
Soft with the scents of summer's flower-breaths,
Or salt with foam-flecks torn from scattering seas,
Incessant sweep the earth from pole to pole.
I asked thee of the streams, whose silver feet,
Stayed by no fetter, hindered by no bar,
Search earth's remotest depths. I asked all things:
But each gave answer: Truth is everywhere.
And so I come no nearer thee. O Truth,
I weary for thee! I have called so long
My voice grows faint. Weak Nature hath no strength
Wherewith to mate her strongest wills. Awhile
Let me lay by my will, until I rest
That which though least, yet rules my greater part.
(He sinks upon the ground.)
Night lies upon mine eyelids like a flower,
Humid and sweet, endrowsing all my soul;
And sleep hath flung her lasso round my limbs.
They move no more, though shadowy shapes bend close,
Wave languorous arms, and beckon me beyond.
(He falls asleep. VITA appears.)
VITA: Yea, Sleep hath come to him. And with Sleep, I,
Albeit he called me not. Ah, generous Sleep,
Who wresting all else from him, makes him mine!
But that I lose him not when choice returns,
I thus obey thee, Hope!
(She passes the weed across his eyes.)
Now Love, dear Love—
Thou only Love of all mine uncrowned life—
Awake! Awake!
(She draws back as he starts to his feet.)
HAPPINESS (groping as if blind): I hear.
(listens). Methought one called.
How blindly dark the night! I cannot see.
Who was it called? (Listens.) Where is the voice that called?
O Truth, how reach thee through Day's huge eclipse?
I am distraught with darkness. Speak, oh, speak,
Thou who didst speak before! I listen. Speak!
VITA: I called thee, Happiness.
HAPPINESS: Who art thou? Who?
I cannot see thee if I know thy face.
How know'st thou me? Who art thou? Speak again.
O God, can it be Truth? Speak! Art thou Truth?
VITA: Prove me, and see.
HAPPINESS: How should one hope to find
Pathway through so impenetrable Black?
Art thou, or art thou not? O God, give light,
That I may know if this be she!
VITA: Hush! Hush!
I am she. I am Truth.
HAPPINESS: Thou? Thou? Art Truth?
O Heaven, break open! Let one only ray
Fall on me from above to clear mine eyes,
That I may know if this be very Truth
Or basest Falsehood. How distinguish thee?
In so vast gloom, who should give judgment rein?
Oh, this surpasses weakness—worsens death—
This is despair!
VITA: Fear not.
HAPPINESS: Nay, wert thou Truth,
How should I fear? It is my fear I fear.
Doubt proves thee false. Wert thou indeed that Truth
I thought thee, should my heart not credit thee,
And thou to my soul's vision stand revealed
Through all the dimness of my senses' sight?
Is Truth not brighter than the moon and stars
And daytime's sun? How should it then be dark
Where Truth is? Nay. Thou art not Truth.
VITA: I am.
HAPPINESS: Nay. For my soul disclaims thee. Thou art not.
I feel Truth near, yet know thou art not she. (Turns away.)
VITA: O Hope, Hope, help me! See! He goes! He goes!
But still I have a charm. (She tears the flower from her breast.) Now, thou
blind Seer,
Hater of all fair Falsehoods for the sake
Of one lost Truth, behold me with thine eyes.
Look on me, for my beauty cleave to me,
If not for Truth's sake!
(She flings the flower at him; it breaks over him in a shower of petals.)
HAPPINESS: Ha! Once more the day!
O Heavens, I see! And lo, there is no Truth!
Great God, have mercy on my maddened soul!
I stand alone in a blank universe,
Groping for Truth, and reaching only Lies!
Oh, give me back my blindness, gracious Heaven!
Better the doubt than the despair! And thou
Who callest thyself Truth, how hate I thee
For taking on thyself so sweet a name
To cover so foul wrong! There is no Truth,
No Truth in all the world! It was a dream—
A heavenly dream—and thou hast marred it! Fool—
Fool that I am! I have gone mad for Truth,
And Truth is not, nor aught but madness is!
O God, what frenzy 's this? My being doth
Now uncreate itself and turn to void
If Truth be not! Truth! Truth! Oh, save me, Truth!
(He rushes madly toward the mouth of the cave.)
VITA (springing to him): Hope, thou deceiver, help, or he is lost!
(She catches the fringe of his mantle.)
Not so shalt thou escape me, Happiness!
With these my hands I grasp thee, keep thee, thus,
Making thee mine by very force of will!
Thou shalt not leave me! Never! Nevermore!
HAPPINESS: Lo, reason with thy touch returns. Thank God.
And thank thee, Vita. Truth shall yet be mine!
VITA (looking at him in fear): Who art thou whom I hold? Art
Happiness—
That Happiness, whom only thus to clasp
Once was my dream of Heaven? Art thou that he?
(She relinquishes her hold.)
Thou hast betrayed me, Hope—undone me, Hope!
Dearer than the possession the desire!
Sweeter the dream than the reality!
(She covers her face with her hands. Enter TIME and COURT.)
TIME: Yonder is Happiness.
3 COURTIERS: That, Happiness?
Not so I dreamed him!
MALICE: Is it naught but this
We made such moan for and such toilsome search?
CARE: Alas, he rests me not!
FAITH (joyfully): O Happiness,
Is 't given me to see thee, and so nigh—
To know thee henceforth what thou rightly art,
Distinguished from thy baser semblances!
HISTORY: Can it be yon is Happiness? He seems
Unlike all things e'er named or dreamed as he!
FAITH: Therein his blessedness. What mind conceived
Aught so divine?
ALL (discontentedly): And is this what we sought?
This what we laboured for? Not this! Not this!
(They draw back, murmuring. TRUTH appears veiled at the entrance of the
cave. HAPPINESS flings himself at her feet.)
HAPPINESS: Truth! Truth! 'T is thou! Thank God, 't is Truth at last!
TRUTH (to HAPPINESS): Thou know'st me?
HAPPINESS: Verily! With my whole heart,
Albeit confounded by thy loveliness!
TRUTH (to VITA): Knowest thou me?
VITA (sullenly): Yea. Yea. I know thee well.
I love thee not, yet must, shamefaced, confess,
Veiled though thou art, thy features hid from me,
I know thee, Truth, and dare not cry: Begone!
TRUTH (to the others): And know ye me?
(She turns toward them slowly, lifting her veil, and a light streams suddenly
out from where she stands, illumining the entire stage.)
HISTORY: By all most sacred, no!
If yon be Truth, then hath my pen thus long
Been dipped in falsehoods, and indited lies!
MALICE: It hath grown strangely light! We do look grey,
Misshapen, monstrous, seen in so white glare.
CARE: And thou the greyest, ugliest of all!
Myself shows noble by the side of thee.
2D COURTIER (to IST COURTIER): I saw thee never rightly till this hour.
Out on thee for a miser! Avarice
Leaves no room in thy soul for Happiness.
1ST COURTIER (to 3D and 2D): What has come over ye? In Truth's strong
light
Thou'rt but a Traitor! a weak Rhymster thou!
(TRUTH still looks at them with lifted veil, and confused, all the court
withdraws.)
TIME: O miserable world! O frightened fools,
Stripped a brief space of your lifelong disguise!
Draw back! Not yet dare men envisage Truth!
Ay, Truth, I know thee! Thou wast given me
In trust, and I have hid thee from the world,
Though some bold souls have dared a glimpse at thee,
And died or maddened for thy sake; and some
Have hated thee for thy surpassing grace,
While some have prayed for thee on bended knees,
But with shut eyes, lest sight of thee should blast them!
Not yet thine hour, O Truth! But soon shall dawn
A day when I may bring thee forth unveiled,
Thy beauty to all earth made manifest,
God's ultimate, and highest revelation.
Till then, pass, pass, ye anxious ages, pass!
(Exit TIME slowly.)
FAITH (falling on her knees): Till then thank Heaven, who hath accorded
us
The knowledge that thou livest, and the will
To love thee, long for thee, aspire to thee,
If need be die for thee, O rare sweet Truth!
TRUTH (to HAPPINESS): Thou hast long sought me. Come. I am thine own.
HAPPINESS (clasping her in his arms): Oh, holy moment! joy vouchsafed
of Heaven!
Lo, Truth and Happiness are one for aye!
(TRUTH drops her veil. The light gradually fades away and twilight succeeds,
as HAPPINESS and TRUTH disappear together in the cave. VITA and
FAITH are left alone upon the scene. VITA throws herself upon her face on
the ground.)
VITA: Farewell! Farewell! Farewell! Now break, my heart.
I would have done with life, who thus have done
With Happiness. O cruel Hope and false!
Oh, bitterest end! supremest wretchedness!
Oh, masterwork of woe!
FAITH: Hush, thee, oh hush!
What life is there but hides the memory
Of some dead day that once held Happiness?
What more than this hath Fate for mortal soul—
The sweet fleet glimpse of some transcending bliss,
With tardy knowledge of a living Truth
Beyond our present reach? Enough, enough
Only to follow after; oh enough,
Seeking for Truth, to know that some far day
We shall find Truth, and with Truth, Happiness!
(VITA ceases weeping, and, lifting her head to FAITH'S shoulder, clings to
her, comforted. The day broadens.)
CHORUS (behind the scenes):
O Life! O Life! O Life!
What art thou, pray?
Desire and Fate at strife
For a brief day.
A sowing and a reaping;
A losing and a keeping;
A laughing and a weeping
Along the way.

O Life! O Life! O Life!
What art thou, pray?
A fleeting moment rife
With deeds that weigh;
A breaking, or a binding;
A forgetting, or a minding;
A scattering, or a finding
Now for alway!
(The stage is illumined with a bright light coming from TRUTH'S cave, and
the curtain falls with the last line of the song, leaving VITA and FAITH
with their arms entwined.)





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