Chapter IV: Act I

[_As the Roman Interlude closes, the light passes from the
ground-circle to the middle stage, where Prospero—descending
his throne with Ariel—moves toward the centre. While they
speak together there, Caliban—coming from his cave—crawls
part way up the steps and lies flat, occasionally lifting
his head to listen._]

PROSPERO
So, Ariel, I have harvested for thee
These orchards of mine art, and let thee taste
Their varied fruitages, some that have ripened
In climes auspicious, some that are part decayed.
Now from three vineyards—Egypt, Greece, and Rome—
I will distill a varicolored wine
For Caliban to drink. So, steeped in spirit,
Haply he also shall see visions. Hast
Thou learned by heart all that I whispered to thee?

ARIEL
All, Master.

PROSPERO
Tell me part.

ARIEL
You will create
Out of this world of art three scenes of vision.

PROSPERO
And who shall act them—say!

ARIEL
My Spirits shall;
And I will be their Prologue.

PROSPERO
For what purpose?

ARIEL
To tutor this beast.

PROSPERO
And why?

ARIEL
That he may grow
To reverence Miranda, and forswear Setebos.

PROSPERO
So! and to dispel the Powers
Of Setebos, I have transformed his cave
To be her temple and my theatre.—Look!

[_Prospero raises his staff toward the darkness that conceals
the background. As he does so, increasing light reveals the
rude, irregular contours of the cave of Setebos transformed
to the architectural lines of a splendid proscenium, in the
oblong of which the Cloudy Curtains shut off the inner stage.
The idol of Setebos has vanished._

_While this transformation is taking place, the Spirit Choirs
of Ariel appear above the proscenium, singing._]

SPIRITS OF ARIEL
_In the same abode and cell_
_Where the Toad was wont to dwell,_
_And the Tiger stretched his claw,_
_We have built a shrine of Law:_
_We have chosen the lair of hate_
_To love, imagine and create._

_Out of blood and dross,_
_Out of Setebos,_
_We are risen to show_
_The art of Prospero:_
_Here within his head and heart_
_Our souls are servants of his art._

[_Their appearances vanish above._]

ARIEL
Most noble Master! Show me now behind
Those cloudy curtains: How have you transformed
The cave within?

PROSPERO
Come; I will show thee how.

[_Prospero and Ariel pass through the curtains at the
centre and disappear within._

_Meanwhile Caliban, peering above the top step, stares
in dumb awe at the changed scene. There he is hailed
from below by the priest of Setebos, Lust, who comes
forth from his cell and calls_:]

LUST
Caliban! Remember Setebos!

CALIBAN
[_Starting, backs down the steps in scared pantomime._]

Aye, Setebos! But I hear their watch-dogs bark:
_Bow-wow!_ I feel their tongue-bites yet—their torments.

LUST
Caliban! Restore thy father’s temple.

CALIBAN
Yea, but my father had no feet to dance.
Curse on their yellow sands! They sting my eyes
Still wi’ their blindings. Blast ’em!

[_He springs part way up the steps again._]

LUST
Caliban!
Restore the priests of Setebos!

CALIBAN
His priests!
Nay, what if the cock sang—their chanticleer
His _Diddle-diddle-dow_! Burneth my spine
Still with that crowing.

[_Reënter Prospero through the curtains._]

LUST
Hush! he comes again.
I await thy call. Cry on _Caligula_
And I will come.

[_Lust goes in the cell._]

PROSPERO
[_Calling within the curtains._]
Now, Ariel, where art thou?
Ariel!

ARIEL
[_Stepping forth from behind the curtains, dressed in
the garb of Prologue, bows low._]

Here, great Master! I am now
Prologus, at your service.

PROSPERO
Nay, not mine
But _his_. [_Calling._]
Come, Caliban: behold thy tutor.
Behind these curtains he will show thee now
More than thy nature dreams on. If thou obey him
And learn mine art, thou shalt go free like him.
If not, thou shalt be spitted on a tooth
More sharp than Setebos. What sayest?

CALIBAN
[_Cringing._]
Lord,
Art Cock o’ the world, and Caliban thy worm;
Yea, only beggeth thee crow no more, nor set
Thy dancing dogs to bark at him.

PROSPERO
Tush, fool:
Wilt thou obey?

CALIBAN
Obeyeth both of you.

PROSPERO
That’s well. Sit here and watch. Now, Ariel,
Thy prologue: then reveal what lies behind.

[_Prospero mounts his throne, on the steps of which Caliban
squats below him, watching and listening with growing
curiosity. At the centre, before the Cloudy Curtains,
Ariel speaks._]

ARIEL
From Egypt, by our Master’s art,
Behold now, when these curtains part,
A scene of fleeting pageantry:
Behold where pale Mark Antony
Hath fled his sore defeated ships
In quest of Cleopatra’s lips,
And turned the tides of war amiss
To pawn a kingdom for a kiss.—
So, by my Spirits’ acting, see
Of what strange stuff these humans be!

[_Ariel retires within through the curtains, which then—to
the melodic dirge of flutes within—draw apart, disclosing
the inner stage, which depicts a scene of vivid Egyptian
coloring._]

FIRST INNER SCENE

Against a background of deep blue sky, the barge[14] of Cleopatra lies moored at an ancient wharf:

From the left, along the wharf, enters Mark Antony, attended by Soldiers and Populace in Roman and Egyptian garb.

ANTONY
Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon ’t;
It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither.
I am so hated in the world, that I
Have lost my way forever. I have a ship
Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly,
And make your peace with Cæsar.

ALL
Fly! Not we.

ANTONY
I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards
To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone;
I have myself resolv’d upon a course
Which has no need of you; be gone....
Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command....

[His followers depart, and Antony throws himself
down on a buttress of the wharf.
Meantime from the barge, Cleopatra—who has
looked on and listened—is led down to the landing
by Charmian and her Attendants, behind whom Eros
[a friend of Antony] follows.
They approach Antony, who—absorbed in his
grief—does not see them.]

EROS
Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him....

CHARMIAN
Do! Why, what else?

CLEOPATRA
Let me sit down. O Juno!

[As Cleopatra sinks down near him, Antony—now
beholding her—starts up with a cry of surprise and
passionate pain.]

ANTONY
No, no, no; no, no!

EROS
[Pointing to Cleopatra’s piteous aspect.]
See you here, sir?

ANTONY
[Hiding his face.]
O fie, fie, fie!

CHARMIAN
[Bending over her.]
Madam!

EROS
[Appealing to Antony.]
Sir, sir,—

ANTONY
Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept
His sword e’en like a dancer, while I struck
The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and ’twas I
That the mad Brutus ended ... yet now—No matter.

[He sinks down again.]

CLEOPATRA
[Rising, to her Attendants.]
Ah, stand by ... sustain me! O!

EROS
Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches.
Her head’s declin’d, and death will seize her, but
Your comfort makes the rescue.

ANTONY
[Drawing still away, despairfully.]
I have offended reputation,
A most unnoble swerving.

EROS
Sir, the queen!

[Cleopatra and Antony face each other—gazing
into each other’s eyes.]

ANTONY
[Suddenly crying out.]

O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See,
How I convey my shame out of thine eyes
By looking back what I have left behind
’Stroy’d in dishonor.

CLEOPATRA
O my lord, my lord,
Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought
You would have follow’d.

ANTONY
Egypt, thou knew’st too well
My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings,
And thou shouldst tow me after. O’er my spirit
Thy full supremacy thou knew’st, and that
Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods
Command me.

CLEOPATRA
O my pardon!

ANTONY
Now I must
To the young man send humble treaties, dodge
And palter in the shifts of lowness; who
With half the bulk o’ the world play’d as I pleased,
Making and marring fortunes. You did know
How much you were my conqueror; and that
My sword, made weak by my affection, would
Obey it on all cause.

CLEOPATRA
[Touching his arm, clings to him.]
Pardon, pardon!

ANTONY
[Overcome at her touch.]

Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates
All that is won and lost. Give me a kiss.
Even this repays me.... Wine!
Bring wine, within there: wine! For fortune knows
We scorn her most when most she offers blows.

[He embraces Cleopatra.

From the right slaves enter, bearing chalices and
wine-beakers. With them come flutists and harpers,
making festal music.

Snatching from them a golden cup, Antony raises
it aloft with an impassioned gesture, returning the
triumphant smile of the Egyptian queen.]

CLOSING, THE CLOUDY CURTAINS SHUT OFF THE SCENE.

[_Meantime Caliban, who has risen absorbed and drawn slowly
nearer in child-like fascination, stands for an instant,
bewildered. Then, with a cry, he leaps forward in the dim-lit
space and gropes along the curtains with arms wide._]

CALIBAN
Ho, light! All’s smother: ’tis gone! Yo—yo, all gone—
Cloud-swallowed, all! Ah, woman, snake-bright queen,
Thou wonder-thing, come back! Ah, where—where—where?

PROSPERO
So, so! Canst thou, then, taste my vision, slave?
[_He descends the throne toward Caliban._]

CALIBAN
[_Staring about him._]

O dazzle-blue, gold-shine, hot lotus smell!
Blood-root in bloom, and scarlet water-weed!—
O silver sight and tinkle-tickling sound!—
Spurteth my body with joy—burst in my brain
Enormous moons of wonder!—Float, still float,
You purpling sails! Blaze, thou flame-woman! Speak
Sparkles of kissing fire!

PROSPERO
[_Approaching him._]
Nay, art thou touched
Beyond thy tiger cravings?

CALIBAN
Ho, Lord Master,
Lord Chanticleer, unswallow from thy gorge
The world thou hast devoured!

PROSPERO
[_Pointing toward Ariel, who comes forth again as
Prologus through the curtains._]

Ask of thy tutor;
He hath revealed that world to thy brute ken.—
Ariel, this lump of earth hath dreams within ’t,
That now begin to sprout. Send it more sun
And watering.

ARIEL
Sir, your art is rain and sun:
I am but air, to carry its wet or warmth
Whereso you list.

PROSPERO
So let it fall on him
Till he shall wax to a more worthy plant
For Miranda’s temple-garden.—Here is my Staff:
This wields my power. Here keep it in thy charge
Till I return. So, use it as a rod
To instruct this bungling cub of Setebos.

ARIEL
[_As Prospero goes._]
I will, sir.—Go you far?

PROSPERO
No farther than
The frontiers of mine art. Farewell a while!

[_Prospero passes within through the curtains. Half
confiding, half suspicious, Caliban comes near to
Ariel and questions him._]

CALIBAN
Art, saith! What’s that—his art?

ARIEL
’Tis that which burns
Now in thy blood: the same which conjured hither
Bright Egypt and the kiss of Antony.

CALIBAN
The woman and the kiss! Nay, saidest now
’Tis rain and sun!

ARIEL
’Tis so.

CALIBAN
Where falleth his rain?
Where shineth his sun?

ARIEL
Yonder on the Yellow Sands.

CALIBAN
Nay, show me this art! Is ’t hidden in thy hand?
Here, let _me_ hold the staff.

[_Caliban reaches for the staff; Ariel raises it warningly._]

ARIEL
Stay! Touch it not
Lest it shall scorch thy fingers and set fire
To the building world. The staff of Prospero
Is for his servants, not for slaves, to wield.

CALIBAN
[_Drawing back from it, in fear._]
Scorcheth my fingers, ah?—So wield it, thou!
Show me once more the snake-bright queen.

ARIEL
Nay, Egypt
No more! But come with me to Prosper’s throne
Where _I_ play master now. Here thou shalt sit
And watch the battlements of eternal Troy
Where Troilus woos inconstant Cressida.

CALIBAN
Showest me once more—woman?

ARIEL
Even so;
For many kinds of woman make mankind.

[_Rising, Ariel points toward the inner stage
and speaks chantingly._]
Now, from out Time’s storied sphere,
Homer’s Troy I summon here,
On a dawn when Hector seeks
Battle with the besieging Greeks:
There, while heroes throng the gates,
Cressida her lover ’waits,
Casting from a height apart
Tangling hooks for Troilus’ heart.—
Behold her now, by Prosper’s art!
[_Ariel raises his staff._]

SECOND INNER SCENE[15]

The Cloudy Curtains draw back, revealing the battlements of Troy. Above, on a rampart, in the first rays of morning, CRESSIDA appears, with a maiden Attendant.

Below, murmuring crowds are looking toward the outer gates. Among them pass the aged Trojan Queen, and the Greek Helen, in her younger beauty.

CRESSIDA
[Peering below.]
Who were those went by?

ATTENDANT
Queen Hecuba and Helen.

CRESSIDA
And whither go they?

ATTENDANT
Up to the eastern tower
To see the battle—Hector,
Before the sun uprose, was harnessed light
And to the field goes he.

[Enter behind them Pandarus.]

CRESSIDA
Hector’s a gallant man.—
[Turning to greet him.]
Good morrow, Uncle Pandarus.

PANDARUS
[Smiling.]
Good morrow, Cousin Cressid.
[Trumpets are sounded, off left.]
Hark! They are coming from the field. Shall we
stand up here and see them as they pass toward
Ilium?

CRESSIDA
At your pleasure.

[They move to a better vantage. At a gesture
from Cressida the Attendant departs.]

PANDARUS
Here, here’s an excellent place. I’ll tell you them
all by their names, as they pass by; but mark
Troilus above the rest.

CRESSIDA
[With a reproving laugh.]
Speak not so loud.

[Below, from the left, Trojan warriors, in battle
gear, begin to pass by, through the admiring
populace who cheer them occasionally.

Among them
ÆNEAS PASSES]

PANDARUS
That’s Æneas: is not that a brave man? He’s one
of the flowers of Troy, I can tell you. But mark
Troilus; you shall see anon.

ANTENOR PASSES

CRESSIDA
Who’s that?

PANDARUS
That’s Antenor: he’s one o’ the soundest judgments
in Troy. But when comes Troilus? I’ll show
you Troilus anon. If he sees me, you shall see
him nod at me.

CRESSIDA
[Archly.]
Will he give _you_ the nod?

PANDARUS
You shall see.

CRESSIDA
If he do, the rich shall have more.

HECTOR PASSES

PANDARUS
That’s Hector: that, that, look you, that; there’s a fellow!
Go thy way, Hector! There’s a brave man, niece.

CRESSIDA
O, a brave man!

PANDARUS
Swords! anything, he cares not; an the devil comes to
him, it’s all one. Yonder comes Paris—Paris!

PARIS PASSES

Who said he came hurt home to-day? He’s not hurt.
Why, this will do Helen’s heart good now, ha! Would
I could see Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon.

HELENUS PASSES

CRESSIDA
Who’s that?

PANDARUS
[Searching with his eyes, grows impatiently expectant.]

That’s Helenus.—I marvel where Troilus is.—That’s
Helenus—I think he went not forth to-day.—That’s
Helenus.

CRESSIDA
Can Helenus fight, uncle?

PANDARUS
Helenus? no. Yes, he’ll fight indifferent well.—I
marvel where Troilus is. Hark! do you hear the
people cry “Troilus?”

TROILUS PASSES
[As he approaches, the populace cheer him.

His eyes, however, search about till they rest on
the battlement, where Cressida, returning his look,
starts back, trembling.

Noting both their actions, Pandarus continues
flauntingly to point out the young hero.]

’Tis Troilus! There’s a man, niece. Hem! Brave Troilus!

CRESSIDA
Peace! For shame, peace!

PANDARUS
Mark him: note him. O brave Troilus! Look well
upon him, niece; look you how his sword is bloodied,
and his helm more hacked than Hector’s.
O admirable youth! Go thy way, Troilus, go thy
way! Had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a
goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable
man! Paris? Paris is dirt to him.

[While he is speaking, Cressida has taken from her
hair a flower, knotted its stem to an arrow, and
dropped the arrow beneath the rampart, where Troilus
lifts it with a smile and happy gesture, bearing it away
with him, right. As Pandarus now turns to her,
Cressida looks away left and points to others below.]

CRESSIDA
Here comes more.

MORE FORCES PASS

PANDARUS
Asses, fools, dolts! Chaff and bran! Porridge after
meat! I could live and die i’ the eyes of Troilus.
Ne’er look, ne’er look! the eagles are gone; crows
and daws, crows and daws! I had rather be such
a man as Troilus than Agamemnon and all Greece.

[Enter, above, Troilus’ Boy, who speaks to Pandarus.]

THE BOY
Sir, my lord Troilus would instantly speak with you.

PANDARUS
Where?

THE BOY
At your own house; there he unarms him.

PANDARUS
Good boy, tell him I come. [Exit Boy.]
Fare ye well, good niece.
[He goes off, above.]

CRESSIDA
Adieu, uncle!

[Below, the last of the soldiers and populace have
passed off, right, where Cressida gazes after them,
speaking aloud to herself:]

O more in Troilus thousandfold I see
Than in the glass of Pandar’s praise may be;
Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing.
Things won are done; joy’s soul lies in the doing.

[Below, from the right, Troilus hastens back, alone.
The arrow with the flower he has thrust through the
links in his chain armor on his left side. Pointing
to it, he calls up toward the battlement.]

TROILUS
Cressida!

CRESSIDA
[With a glad cry.]
Troilus!

[Unwinding her long wine-red scarf, she ties it to
the battlement, whence it flutters down to Troilus.
Seizing it, he mounts by its aid toward the rampart,
where the face of Cressida peers luringly above him.]

TROILUS
[Calling upward as he mounts.]
Cressida!
[Just as he is about to reach Cressida,

THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE.

[_At the centre Caliban now leaps up in loud, excited
laughter. Clapping his hands in the air, he
strides toward Ariel on the throne._]

CALIBAN
Aha! Troy, Troy! Lips of Troyland and Egypt!
Lovers in links of gold! Ho, wine of woman
Bubbling in vats of war!—drinketh you all
Caliban, Caliban, son of Setebos.—Ariel,
Learnest me Art? Lo, now: _I_ am his Artist!
Tell him, Lord Prospero, Caliban createth
Glories more ’stounding still. Art? Ho, ’tis God’s play!
But _me_? Am God i’ the mire: can make me Troy
And purple Egypt out of the mud i’ my palm;
Giveth me only that—his little play stick
[_Pointing to the staff in Ariel’s hand._]
To stir in the mud withal.

ARIEL
Not yet!—This staff
Is wrought to stir the spirits of the air,
Not dabble i’ the slime.

CALIBAN
Why so? From bog-slime bloometh
The lotus, and the sea-lark feedeth her young
Along the salt flats.—
[_With childish wheedling._]
Prithee—the staff?

ARIEL
[_Descending the throne._]
’Twould burn thee.
Touch not till thou art free. Yet patience, monster,
For thou hast learned to answer well, and growest
Rarely in thought and speech.

CALIBAN
[_Tickled to laughter._]
Yea, clever monster
Soon groweth monstrous clever. More art, fine Ariel!
Let Caliban speak thy Prologue.

ARIEL
Hush!—Miranda!

[_From her shrine Miranda comes forth, with the Muses.
Seeing the two, she pauses astonished._]

MIRANDA
Nay!—Is this Ariel?

ARIEL
’Tis I—Prologus.
Will you hear me, Mistress?

MIRANDA
[_As Caliban approaches._]
Thou!—thou, Caliban!

ARIEL
My pupil.

CALIBAN
[_With confiding assurance._]
Liketh well thy father’s art,
Spring-i’-the-air.

MIRANDA
God speed thy learning, monster!
I am more fain to help thee in that task
Than all else in the world.

CALIBAN
[_Astonished and eager._]
Wouldst help me—thou?

MIRANDA
How happy, if I could!

CALIBAN
Yea, canst thou!—Hark:
[_Glancing from his garb to Ariel’s._]

Let me wear glory, too! What booteth me
To be his Artist, if I wear no cloth
To show my glory? He there talketh no Prologue
Without his toga. Tog me, too, in brave
Colors!

MIRANDA
Well thought on.
[_To one of the Muses._]
Quick, Euterpe: Fetch
Bright vesture forth.

ARIEL
For Caliban?

MIRANDA
For whom
So fit? The need of beauty lies
Most near to them who lack it.

[_Euterpe returns, bringing bright garments, which she and
the other Maidens help now to put upon Caliban._]

So, dear Muses:
Lay on!

CALIBAN
[_Delightedly tries to survey himself._]

Ha, Sycorax, an thou wert here now
To look on this thy son!

[_He parades, with swelling pleasure, before the Muses._]

Gaze well, good Spirits!
Now, Ariel, thy pupil soon shall teach thee
What thing this Art is: yea, teach Prospero
A lesson in ’s own lore.

MIRANDA
[_To Ariel, who is about to protest._]

Pray, let him tarry
This time with us. He is too full of dreams
To act us harm. Speak on thy Prologue.

CALIBAN
[_Still parading._]
Prologue!
Aye, good: _my_ Prologue shall come after.

ARIEL
Mistress,
Keep here, this staff for your protection.

[_Accepting the staff from Ariel, Miranda takes seat on
the shrine, where the Muses range themselves about her._]

MIRANDA
So!
Be near us, Caliban.

CALIBAN
[_Moving to the shrine steps, speaks to Ariel._]

What showest now?

ARIEL

[_At centre, before the curtains._]
Now, in Time’s emblazoned tome
Egypt, Greece, turn page for Rome.

CALIBAN
[_Mutters aloud._]
Rome, ha! I’ll show you Rome!

ARIEL
Rocked by mighty Cæsar’s fall
Glooms the world in battle pall,
Where by midnight, worn and spent,
Weary Brutus, in his tent,
Watches ’mid the Roman host.
There the pallid Cæsar’s ghost
Rises from his candle-flame
Accusing.—Who shall bear that blame?
Can Brutus wake a world from shame?

[_Ariel disappears through the curtains.
Miranda raises the staff._]

THIRD INNER SCENE

The Cloudy Curtains part, disclosing the tent of Brutus, by moonlight.

Brutus—his outer armor laid aside—sits on a couch: near him Lucius, a boy, nods drowsily over a stringed instrument. After a brief pause, Brutus—gazing at him—speaks wistfully:

BRUTUS
Bear with me, good boy:
Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile
And touch thy instrument a strain or two?

LUCIUS
Aye, my lord, an’t please you.

BRUTUS
It does, my boy:
I should not urge thy duty past thy might;
I know young bloods look for a time of rest.

LUCIUS
I have slept, my lord, already.

BRUTUS
It was well done; and thou shalt sleep again;
I will not hold thee long. If I do live
I will be good to thee.

LUCIUS
[Tuning his instrument, sings dreamily:]

Fear no more the frown o’ the great;
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke.
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the seed is as the oak.
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this and come to dust.

[Lucius falls asleep.]

BRUTUS
This is a sleepy tune. O murderous slumber,
Lay’st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy
That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good-night;
I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.—
Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turned down
Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.

[The Ghost of Cæsar appears.]

How ill this taper burns!—Ha! Who comes here?
I think it is the weakness of mine eyes
That shapes this monstrous apparition.
It comes upon me. Art thou anything?
Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,
That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare?
Speak to me what thou art.

[In the darkness, dark ghostly shapes, hardly visible,
appear to urge forward the dead Cæsar, who alone
is luminous.]

THE GHOST
Thy evil spirit, Brutus.

BRUTUS
Why comest thou?

THE GHOST
To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.

BRUTUS
Well; then I shall see thee again?

THE GHOST
Aye, at Philippi.

BRUTUS
Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then.

[The Ghost and the dim Shapes disappear.
Brutus rises.]

Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest:
Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.—
[Calling aloud.]
Boy, Lucius! Romans, Romans! Awake—awake!

THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE

[_Instantly, in the semi-darkness without, Caliban—with
a great cry—springs among the Muses, snatches
from Miranda the staff, and rushes with it to the
centre of the middle stage, shouting aloud_:]

CALIBAN
Awake, Romans, awake!

[_Low thunders growl, and sharp flashes glimmer about him._]

MIRANDA
[_Cries out, appalled._]
The staff! His staff!
Touch not its power, lest thou lay waste the world!

CALIBAN

[_Grasping the staff, staggers and sways wildly with it,
as though being shocked by an invisible force._]

Rome! Now do I hold the roof-beam o’ the world.
Now am _I_ lord of lightnings: Lo, mine art
Shaketh the throne of Prospero.

[_He strides upon the throne, raising the staff._]

Awake,
Imperial Rome! Return, ye snake-bright women
Of Troy and Egypt! Stain these yellow sands
Wine-red with spillings of your wreathèd bowls,
And let the orgied priests of revel reign.—
Caligula, be crowned by Setebos!
Caligula! Caligula! Caligula!

[_While he cries aloud, the Powers of Setebos come forth
from the cell beneath, clad as Roman men, women,
and slaves and, joined by the Roman Interlude
Pageant on the ground-circle, raise the Emperor on a
palanquin upon their shoulders, and bear him up
the steps to the middle stage, shouting “Caligula!”_

_Here a scene of mingled riot and orgy follows:_

_Women dancers with golden bowls, slaves shackled and driven
with whips, rabble groups scrambling for bread loaves
flung them by heralds, armed soldiery, and gorgeous
patrician lords: these swarm in a sordid saturnalia,
from the midst of which the masked form of Caligula
rises dominant in splendor. At his gesture, slaves
tear the Muses from their shrine, and give them over
to the revellers._

_High above all, clutching the staff, his huge limbs rioting
grotesque from his silken garments, Caliban dances on
the throne of Prospero._

_Below, bass voices of invisible choirs chant through the din_:

_“Setebos! Setebos! Thou art Setebos!”_

_Seized from the throne with the Muses, Miranda—at the
centre—is borne in faint dread to the reaching arms
of Caligula, who is about to place upon her his crown,
when a sudden pealing of silvery trumpets strikes
silence over all. In awe the revellers gaze upward,
and turn toward the background, listening._

_Above them there, from the darkness, appears a colossal_
CROSS, _burning with white fire_.

_Caligula drops his crown._

_Shadow falls on the colorful pageantry, and all sink slowly
to their knees, as the Spirits of Ariel appear again
above—their luminous wings outspread like seraphim._

_At either end one blows a slim tapering trumpet._

_High and clear, then, their choirs chant in Gregorian
unison_:

SPIRITS OF ARIEL

Vexilla Regis pródeunt;
Fulget Crucis mystérium,
Quo carne carnis Cónditor
Suspénsus est patíbulo.

Quo vulneratis ínsuper
Mucróne diro lanceæ,
Ut nos laváret crimine,
Manavit unda et sánguine.

O Crux, ave, spes, unica:
Hoc Passiónis témpore,
Auge piis justítiam
Reisque dona veniam.

Te summa Deus Trínitas,
Collaudet omnis spiritus:
Quos per Crucis mystérium
Salvas, rege per sæcula.

_During this chant, the dim revellers beneath bow their
bodies more low._

_And now, to faint organ music, the Cloudy Curtains,
parting, reveal the_ INNER STAGE _hung like an early
Christian shrine in a catacomb—with primitive
tapestries of dusky blue and gold. Against these
in the glow of candles, an image of haloed Saint
Agnes holds a white lamb, which silent shepherds are
adoring. This group remains motionless as a tableau._

_Then silently from either side two priests come forth with
swinging censers. Passing forward and down the steps
to the ground-circle, they are followed in the dim
light by the Roman revellers, who rise and pass off
through the Interlude gates._

_Last of all rises Caligula, who pauses hesitant, looking
back where Miranda still kneels, now grouped about by
her Muses._

_As he stoops to lift his crown from the earth, two
Figures in the_ INNER SCENE—_a Shepherd Boy, and a
Shepherd wrapt in a hide mantle—stir from the still
picture and come forward in a circle of light, while_
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE _behind them, and above the
white cross vanishes_.

_Speaking from the place of light to the Emperor’s form in
shadow, the Shepherd calls to him_:]

THE SHEPHERD
Caligula!

THE EMPEROR
Who calls?

THE SHEPHERD
Reveal thyself—
What thing thou art.

_[Stepping slowly into the light, the_ EMPEROR _bows himself
before the_ SHEPHERD, _holding up his crown
which the Shepherd takes and says with a gesture_:]

Lay off thy mask.

[_Rising, the Emperor puts of his mask, revealing himself
as the_ PRIEST OF SETEBOS.]

Hail, Lust!

LUST
[_To the Shepherd._]
Hail, Prospero!

PROSPERO
[_Putting of his sheepskin cloak, which the boy
takes from him._]
Return to Setebos.
[_To the Shepherd Boy._]
Ariel, lead him below.

ARIEL
So, Master!
[_Ariel leads Lust away to the cell beneath._]

MIRANDA
[_Rising, goes to Prospero’s arms._]
Father!

[_From the outer dimness, Caliban—who, since the appearance
of the burning Cross, has lain flat on the throne steps—
now grovels forward [trailing his silken garment by one
sleeve] and flings the staff of Prospero into the light
space._]

CALIBAN
No more! Will never touch it more!

PROSPERO
[_Staring at the staff._]
A thousand years
To build, and build for beauty, yet in one flare
Of riot lust, a lubber idiot
Confounds time and my toil.—Ah, daughter, daughter!
How shall mine art reclaim this lapsing ape
From his own bondage?

MIRANDA
Sir, my heart is shaken;
Yet the sweet sight of Agnes and her lamb
Hath shown new comfort.

[_Stooping, she lifts the staff and holds it toward him._]

Therefore, even as a Shepherd,
Take up thy staff in patience, and urge still onward
This poor sloughed sheep.

PROSPERO
Yea, patience! Sun, moon, stars,
And all that waxes hath its waning-hour;
But patience is the night behind the stars,
Steadfast through all eclipse.

[_With his staff, he touches Caliban where he lies cringed._]

Stir, thou thick clot
Of clay and god-spittle! Let thine atoms thaw
To mud, where Prosper may imprint once more
His blurrèd seal.

CALIBAN
[_Hoarsely, half rising._]
Mud: yea, methought to be
His Artist, and make dream-things of mine own
Like Ariel his spirits, yet now—am mud.

MIRANDA
[_Pitifully._]
Nay, star-dust!

ARIEL
[_Returning._]
Master, from those far frontiers
You visited, have you not brought us back
More pageants of your art?

PROSPERO
Yes, Ariel:
Back from the dim bourns of the Middle Age
Of Germany, France, Spain, and Italy.
And now, for this slave’s tutelage, I’ll show you
Their quaint moralities and mad-cap mirth.
Come hither, and watch: Lo, olden Germany!
Pageant of the north, appear.

_SECOND INTERLUDE_[16]

_Once more, through the community gates of the ground-circle, appear, in contrasted ritual, successive Folk-Groups, that perform now episodic phases of the dramatic art of Europe in the Middle Ages. Concluding, each group departs._

_First comes the Germanic, in part grimly austere, in part naïvely grotesque. On a portable, three-tiered stage this group enacts both audience and players of a popular morality play: a pantomime scene depicting—in heaven, earth, and hell—the tragic, romantic_ HISTORY OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS.

_This Action is followed by the contrasted splendor of a mediæval French scene. Here, in presence of the Kings of France and England, on_ THE FIELD OF THE CLOTH OF GOLD, _is performed a colorful tournament on horseback_.

_Last follows a fusion of the Spanish and Italian groups in the Third Action: a light-hearted dramatic Scherzo, full of laughter, knavery, and romantic love, performed—in the midst of a festa—by the pied actors of the_ COMMEDIA DELL’ ARTE.

_During this last Action, Prospero and Ariel [above] have withdrawn through the Cloudy Curtains, leaving Caliban alone, staring spellbound at the many-hued festival below him._