A room in the Queen's apartments.
Enter ROSAMUND.
ROSAMUND.
I am yet alive to question if I live And wonder what may ever bid me die.
But live I will, being yet not dead with thee, Father.Thou knowest in Paradise my heart.
I feel thy kisses breathing on my lips, Whereto the dead cold relic of thy face Was pressed at bidding of thy slayer last night, And yet they were not withered: nay, they are red As blood is--blood but newly spilt--not thine.
How good thou wast and sweet of spirit--how dear, Father! None lives that knew thee now save one, And none loves me but thou nor thee but I, That was till yesternight thy daughter: now That very name is tainted, and my tongue Tastes poison as I speak it.There is nought Left in the range and record of the world For me that is not poisoned: even my heart Is all envenomed in me.Death is life, Or priesthood lies that swears it: then I give The man my husband and thy homicide Life, if I slay him--the life he gave thee.
Enter HILDEGARD.
Girl, I sent for thee, I think: stand near me.Child, Thou art fairer than thou knowest, I doubt: thou art fair As the awless maidenhood of morning: truth Should live upon thy lips, though truth were dead On all men's tongues and women's born save thine.
Dawn lies not when it laughs on us.Thy queen I am not now: thy friend I would be.Tell Thy friend if love sleep or awake in thee Toward any man.Thou art silent.Tell me this, Dost thou not think, where thought scarce knows itself -Think in the subtle sense too deep for thought -That Almachildes loves thee?
HILDEGARD.
More than I
Love Almachildes.
ROSAMUND.
Thus a maid should speak.
Dost thou love me?
HILDEGARD.
Thou knowest it, queen.
ROSAMUND.
It lies Now in thy power to show me more of love Than ever yet hath man or woman.Swear, If thou dost love me, thou wilt show it.
HILDEGARD.
I swear.
ROSAMUND.
By all our fathers' great forsaken gods Who smiled on all their battles, and by him Who clomb or crept or leapt upon their throne And signed us Christian, swear it, then.
HILDEGARD.
I swear.
ROSAMUND.
What if I bid thee give thyself to shame -Yield up thy soul and body--play such parts As shameless fame records of women crowned Imperial in the tale of lust and Rome?
HILDEGARD.
Thou couldst not bid me do it.
ROSAMUND.
Thou hast sworn.
HILDEGARD.
I have sworn.
Queen, I would do it, and die.
ROSAMUND.
Thou shalt not.Yet This must thou do, and live.Thou shalt not be Shamed.Thou shalt bid thine Almachildes come And speak with thee by nightfall.Say, the queen Will give not up the maiden so beloved - And truth it is, I love thee--willingly To the arms of one her husband loves: but were it Shame, utter shame, that he should wed not her, The shamefast queen could choose not.Then shall he Plead.Then shalt thou turn gentler than the snow That softens at the strong sun's kiss, and yield.
But needs must night be close about your love And darkness whet your kisses.Light were death.
Hast thou no heart to guess now? Fear not then.
Not thou but I must put on shame.I lack A hand for mine to grasp and strike with.His I have chosen.
HILDEGARD.
I see but as by lightning.Queen, What should I do but warn the king--or him?
ROSAMUND.
Thou hast sworn.I hold thee by thy word.
HILDEGARD.
My Christ, Help me!
ROSAMUND.
No God can break thine oath in twain And leave thee less than perjured.Thou must bid him Make thee to-night his bride.
HILDEGARD.
I could not say it.
ROSAMUND.
Thou shalt, or God shall smite thee down to hell.
What, art thou godless?
HILDEGARD.
Art not thou?
ROSAMUND.
Not I.
I find him just and gracious, girl: he gives me My right by might set fast on thine and thee.
HILDEGARD.
For love of mercy, queen--for honour's sake, Bid me not shame myself before a man -The man I love--who gives me back at least Honour, if love he gives not.
ROSAMUND.
Ay, my maid?
And yet he loves thee, or thy maiden thought Errs with no gracious error, more than thou Him?
HILDEGARD.
Art thou woman born, to cast me back My maiden shame for shame upon my face?
I would not say I loved him more than man Loved ever woman since the light of love Lit them alive together.Let us be.
ROSAMUND.
I will not.Mine are both by God's own gift.
I will not cast it from me.Ye may live Hereafter happy: never now shall I.
HILDEGARD.
Have mercy.Nay, I cannot do it.And thou, Albeit thine heart be hot with hate as hell, Couldst say not, nor fold round with fairer speech, Those foul three words the Egyptian woman said Who tempted and could tempt not Joseph.
ROSAMUND.
No.
He would not hearken.Joseph loved not her More than thine Almachildes me.But thou Shalt.Now no more may I debate with thee.
Go.
HILDEGARD.
God requite thee!
ROSAMUND.
That shall he and I, Not thou, make proof of.If I plead with him, I crave of God but wrong's requital.Go.
[Exit HILDEGARD.
And yet, God help me! Can I do it? God's will May no man thwart, or leave his righteousness Baffled.I would not say, 'My will be done,'
Were God's will not for righteousness as mine, If right be righteous, wrong be wrong, must be.
How else may God work wrong's requital? IMust be or none may be his minister.
