How fairer far than earth’s most lordly stream It rolls its royal waters here and there, Most glorious born of all things anywhere, Most fateful and most godlike; fit to make Men love life better for the sweet sight’s sake And less fear death if death for them should be Shrined in the sacred splendours of the sea As God in heaven s mid mystery. Night and day Forth of my tower-girt homestead would I stray To gaze thereon as thou upon the bright
Soft river whence thy soul took less delight Than mine of the outer sea, albeit I know How great thy joy was of it. Now–for so The high gods willed it should be–once at morn Strange men there landing bore me thence forlorn Across the wan wild waters in their bark, I wist not where, through change of light and dark, Till their fierce lord, the son of spoil and strife, Made me by forceful marriage-rites his wife. Then sailed they toward the white and flower-sweet strand Whose free folk follow on thy father’s hand, And warred against him, slaying his brother: and he Hurled all their force back hurtling toward the sea, And slew my lord their king; but me he gave Grace, and received not as a wandering slave, But one whom seeing he loved for pity: why Should else a sad strange woman such as I Find in his fair sight favour? and for me He built the bower wherein I bare him thee, And whence but now he hath brought us westward, here To abide the extreme of utmost hope or fear. And come what end may ever, death or life, I live or die, if truth be truth, his wife; And none but I and thou, though day wax dim, Though night grow strong, hath any part in him.
SABRINA.
What should we fear, then? whence might any Fall on us?
ESTRILD.
Ah! Ah me! God answers here.
Enter LOCRINE, wounded.
LOCRINE.
Praised be the gods who have brought me safe–to die Beside thee. Nay, but kneel not–rise, and fly Ere death take hold on thee too. Bid the child Kiss me. The ways all round are wide and wild – Ye may win safe away. They deemed me dead – My last friends left–who saw me fallen, and fled No shame is theirs–they fought to the end. But ye, Fly: not your love can keep my life in me – Not even the sight and sense of you so near.
SABRINA.
How can we fly, father?
ESTRILD.
She would not fear –
Thy very child is she–no heart less high Than thine sustains her–and we will not fly.
LOCRINE.
So shall their work be perfect. Yea, I know Our fate is fallen upon us, and its woe. Yet have we lacked not gladness–and this end Is not so hard. We have had sweet life to friend, And find not death our enemy. All men born Die, and but few find evening one with morn As I do, seeing the sun of all my life
Lighten my death in sight of child and wife. I would not live again to lose that kiss, And die some death not half so sweet as this. [Dies.
ESTRILD.
Thou thought’st to cleave in twain my life and To cast my hand away in death, Locrine?
See now if death have drawn thee far from me! [Stabs herself.
SABRINA.
Thou diest, and hast not slain me, mother?
ESTRILD.
Thee?
Forgive me, child! and so may they forgive. [Dies.
SABRINA.
O mother, canst thou die and bid me live?
Enter GUENDOLEN, MADAN, and Soldiers.
GUENDOLEN.
Dead? Ah! my traitor with his harlot fled Hellward?
MADAN.
Their child is left thee.
GUENDOLEN.
She! not dead?
SABRINA.
Thou hast slain my mother and sire–thou hast slain thy lord – Strike now, and slay me.
GUENDOLEN.
Smite her with thy sword.
MADAN.
I know not if I dare. I dare not.
GUENDOLEN.
Shame
Consume thee!–Thou–what call they, girl, thy name? Daughter of Estrild,–daughter of Locrine, – Daughter of death and darkness!
SABRINA.
Yet not thine.
Darkness and death are come on us, and thou, Whose servants are they: heaven behind thee now Stands, and withholds the thunder: yet on me He gives thee not, who helps and comforts thee, Power for one hour of darkness. Ere thine hand Can put forth power to slay me where I stand Safe shall I sleep as these that here lie slain.
GUENDOLEN.
She dares not–though the heart in her be fain, The flesh draws back for fear. She dares not.
SABRINA.
See!
I change no more of warring words with thee O father, O my mother, here am I:
They hurt me not who can but bid me die. [She leaps into the river.
GUENDOLEN.
Save her! God pardon me!
MADAN.
The water whirls
Down out of sight her tender face, and hurls Her soft light limbs to deathward. God forgive – Thee, sayest thou, mother? Wouldst thou bid her live?
GUENDOLEN.
What have we done?
MADAN.
The work we came to do.
That God, thou said’st, should stand for judge of you Whose judgment smote with mortal fire and sword Troy, for such cause as bade thee slay thy lord. Now, as between his fathers and their foes The lord of gods dealt judgment, winged with woes And girt about with ruin, hath he sent
On these destruction.
GUENDOLEN.
Yea.
MADAN.
Art thou content?
GUENDOLEN.
The gods are wise who lead us–now to smite, And now to spare: we dwell but in their sigh And work but what their will is. What hath been Is past. But these, that once were king and queen, The sun, that feeds on death, shall not consume Naked. Not I would sunder tomb from tomb Of these twain foes of mine, in death made one – I, that when darkness hides me from the sun Shall sleep alone, with none to rest by me. But thou–this one time more I look on thee – Fair face, brave hand, weak heart that wast not mine – Sleep sound–and God be good to thee, Locrine. I was not. She was fair as heaven in spring Whom thou didst love indeed. Sleep, queen and king, Forgiven; and if–God knows–being dead, ye live, And keep remembrance yet of me–forgive.
[Exeunt.