fllTl 3 1210018172757 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY ILLVSTRATED BY FRANKLIN BOOTH ISABEL H. LLIS THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA RIVERSIDE BEQUEST OF OF THE NIGHT- WITH ILLVSTRATIONS BY FRANKLIN BOOTH (INDIANAPOLIS : THE BOBBS MERRILL CO PVBLI SHEItJ. COPYRIGHT , 1898, 1900 BY JAMES WHITCOMB RJLEY COPYRJGHT, 1913 THE BOBBS-MEWULL COMPANY TO 'A thynge of ivytchencreft an idle dreme.' T FOR the Song's sake; even so: Humor it, and let it go All untamed and wild of wing Leave it ever truanting. Be its flight elusive! Lo, For the Song's sake even so. Yield it but an ear as kind As thou perkest to the wind. Who will name us what the seas Have sung on for centuries? For the Song's sake! Even so Sing, O Seas! and Breezes, blow! Sing! or Wave or Wind or Bird- Sing! nor ever afterward Clear thy meaning to us No! For the Song's sake. Even so. DRAMATIS PERSONS KRUNG King of the Spirks. CRESTILLOMEEM The Queen Second Consort to Krung. SPRAIVOLL The Tune- Fool. AMPHINE Prince Son of Krung. DWAINIE A Princess of the Wunks. JUCKLET A Dwarf of the Spirks. CREETCH and } GRITCHFANG ) Counsellors, Courtiers, Heralds, etc., etc., etc. Nightmares. THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT ACT I. SCENE THE FLYING ISLANDS. SCENE I. Spirkland. Time,Moonda THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Of dark, and swept that form of mine, E'en as a fleck of blinded shine, Back to the black where light was not. FOURTH FACE. Ere day was dreamt, I saw her face Lift from some starry hiding-place Where our old moon was kneeling while She lit its features with her smile. FIFTH FACE. I knew her while these islands yet Were nestlings ere they feathered wing, Or e'en could gape with them or get Apoise the laziest-ambling breeze, Or cheep, chirp out, or anything! When Time crooned rhymes of nurseries Above them nodded, dozed and slept, And knew it not, till, wakening, The morning-stars agreed to sing And Heaven's first tender dews were wept. THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT SIXTH FACE. I knew her when the jealous hands Of Angels set her sculptured form Upon a pedestal of storm And let her to this land with strands Of twisted lightnings. SEVENTH FACE. And I heard Her voice ere she could tone a word Of any but the Seraph-tongue. And O sad-sweeter than all sung- Or word-said things ! to hear her say, Between the tears she dashed away: "Lo, launched from the offended sight Of /Eo! anguish infinite Is ours, O Sisterhood of Sin! Yet is thy service mine by right, And, sweet as I may rule it, thus Shall Sin's myrrh-savor taste to us Sin's Empress let my reign begin!" 8 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT CHORUS OF SWARMING FACES. We follow thee forever on! Thro' darkest night and dimmest dawn; Thro' storm and calm thro' shower and shine, Hear thou our voices answering thine: We follow craving but to be Thy followers. We follow thee We follow, follow, follow thee! We follow ever on and on O'er hill and hollow, brake and lawn; Thro' grewsome vale and dread ravine Where light of day is never seen. We waver not in loyalty, Unfaltering we follow thee We follow, follow, follow thee! We follow ever on and on ! The shroud of night around us drawn, Though wet with mists, is wild-ashine With stars to light that path of thine; 9 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT The glow-worms, too, befriend us we Shall fail not as we follow thee. We follow, follow, follow thee! We follow ever on and on. The notched reeds we pipe upon Are pithed with music, keener blown And blither where thou leadest lone Glad pangs of its ecstatic glee Shall reach thee as we follow thee. We follow, follow, follow thee! We follow ever on and on : We know the ways thy feet have gone, The grass is greener, and the bloom Of roses richer in perfume And birds of every blooming tree Sing sweeter as we follow thee. We follow, follow, follow thee! We follow ever on and on; For wheresoever thou hast gone 10 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT We hasten joyous, knowing there Is sweeter sin than otherwhere Leave still its latest cup, that we May drain it as we follow thee. We follow, follow, follow thee ! [Throughout final stanzas, faces, in fore- and forms in background slowly vanish, and voices gradually fail to sheer silence. CRESTILLOMEEM, rising, and wist fully gazing and listening; then, evidently regaining wonted self, looks to be assured of being wholly alone then speaks.] CRESTILLOMEEM. The Throne is throwing wide its gilded arms To welcome me. The Throne of Krung! Ha! ha! Leap up, ye lazy echoes, and laugh loud! 11 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT For I, Crestillomeem, the Queen ha! ha! Do fling my richest mirth into your mouths That ye may fatten ripe with mockery! I marvel what the kingdom would become Were I not here to nurse it like a babe And dandle it above the reach and clutch Of intermeddlers in the royal line And their attendant serfs. Ho! Jucklet, ho! Tis time my knarled warp of nice anatomy Were here, to weave us on upon our mesh Of silken villanies. Ho! Jucklet, ho! [Lifts secret door in pave and drops a star-bud through opening. Enter JUCKLET from below.] JUCKLET. Spang sprit! my gracious Queen! but thou hast scorched My left ear to a cinder! and my head 12 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Rings like a ding-dong on the coast of death! For, patient hate! thy hasty signal burst Full in my face as hitherward I came! But though my lug be fried to crisp, and my Singed wig stinks like a little sun-stewed Wunk, I stretch my fragrant presence at thy feet And kiss thy sandal with a blistered lip. CRESTILLOMEEM. Hold! rare-done fool, lest I may bid the cook To bake thee brown! How fares the King by this? JUCKLET. Safe couched midmost his lordly hoard of books, I left him sleeping like a quinsied babe Next the guest-chamber of a poor man's house: But ere I came away, to rest mine ears, I salved his welded lids, uncorked his nose, And o'er the odorous blossom of his lips 13 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Re-squeezed the tinctured sponge, and felt his pulse Come staggering back to regularity. And four hours hence his Highness will awake And Peace will take a nap ! CRESTILLOMEEM. Hal What mean you? JUCKLET. [Ominously.] I mean that he suspects our knaveries. Some covert spy is burrowed in the court Nay, and I pray thee startle not aloud, But mute thy very heart in its out-throb, And let the blanching of thy cheeks but be A whispering sort of pallor! CRESTILLOMEEM. A spy? Here? 14 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT JUCKLET. Ay, here and haply even now. And one Whose unseen eye seems ever focussed keen Upon our action, and whose hungering ear Eats every crumb of counsel that we drop In these our secret interviews! For he The King through all his talking-sleep to-day Hath jabbered of intrigue, conspiracy Of treachery and hate in fellowship, With dire designs upon his royal bulk, To oust it from the Throne. CRESTILLOMEEM. He spake my name? JUCKLET. O Queen, he speaks not ever but thy name Makes melody of every sentence. Yea, He thinks thee even true to him as thou Art fickle, false and subtle! O how blind 15 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT And lame, and deaf and dumb, and worn and weak, And faint, and sick, and all-commodious His dear love is! In sooth, O wifely one, Thy malleable spouse doth mind me of That pliant hero of the bald old catch "The Lovely Husband." Shall I wreak the thing? [Sings with much affected gravity and grimace.~\ O a lovely husband he was known, He loved his wife and her a-lone; She reaped the harvest he had sown; She eat the meat; he picked the bone. With mixed admirers every size, She smiled on each without disguise; This lovely husband closed his eyes Lest he might take her by surprise. 16 [Aside, exclamatory, ,] Chorious uprorious! [Then pantomime as though pulling at bell-rope singing in pent, explosive utterance .] What Fun She could plot and plan! Not One Other such a dandy hubby As this lovely man ! CRESTILLOMEEM. Or talk or tune, wilt thou wind up thy tongue Nor let it tangle in a knot of words! What said the King? 17 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT JUCKLET. [With recovered reverence.] He said: "Crestillomeem O that she knew this thick distress of mine! Her counsel would anoint me and her voice Would flow in limpid wisdom o'er my woes And, like a love-balm, lave my secret grief And lull my sleepless heart!" [Aside] And so went on, Struggling all maudlin in the wrangled web That well-nigh hath cocooned him! CRESTILLOMEEM. Did he yield No hint of this mysterious distress He needs must hold sequestered from his Queen? What said he in his talking-sleep by which Some clew were gained of how and when and whence His trouble came? 18 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT JUCKLET. In one strange phase he spake As though some sprited lady talked with him.- FuJl courteously he said: "In woman's guise Thou comest, yet I think thou art, in sooth, But woman in thy form. Thy words are strange And leave me mystified. I feel the truth Of all thou hast declared, and yet so vague And shadow-like thy meaning is to me, I know not how to act to ward the blow Thou sayest is hanging o'er me even now." And then, with open hands held pleadingly, He asked, "Who is my foe?" And o'er his face A sudden pallor flashed, like death itself, As though, if answer had been given, it Had fallen like a curse. 19 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT CRESTILLOMEEM. I'll stake my soul Thrice over in the grinning teeth of doom, 'Tis Dwainie of the Wunks who peeks and peers With those fine eyes of hers in our affairs And carries Krung, in some disguise, these hints Of our intent! See thou that silence falls Forever on her lips, and that the sight She wastes upon our secret action blurs With gray and grisly scum that shall for aye Conceal us from her gaze while she writhes blind And fangless as the fat worms of the grave! Here! take this tuft of downy druze, and when Thou comest on her, fronting full and fair, Say "Sherzham!" thrice, and fluff it in her face. JUCKLET. Thou knowest scanty magic, O my Queen, But all thou dost is fairly excellent 20 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT An this charm work, thou shalt have fuller faith Than still I must withhold. [Takes charm, 'with extravagant salutation.'] CRESTILLOMEEM. Thou gibing knave! Thou thing! Dost dare to name my sorcery As any trifling gift? Behold what might Be thine an thy deserving wavered not In stable and abiding service to Thy Queen! [She presses suddenly her palm upon his eyes, then lifts her softly opening hand upward, his gaze following, where, sfowly shading in the air above them, appears semblance or counter-self of CRESTILLOMEEM, clothed in most radiant youth, her maiden-face bent downward to a moon-lit sward, where kneels a lover- knight flawless in manly symmetry and Princely beauty, yet none other than the counter-self of 21 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT JUCKLET, eeriely and 'with strange sweetness singing, to some curiously tinkling instrument, the praises of its queenly mistress: JUCKLET and CRESTILLOMEEM transfixed below trancedly gazing on their mystic selves above.] SEMBLANCE OF JUCKLET. [Sings.] Cre still ome en! Crestillomeem/ Soul of my slumber/ Dream of my dream! Moonlight may fall not as goldenly fair As falls the gold of thine opulent hair Nay, nor the starlight as dazzlingly gleam As gleam thine eyes, 'Meema Crestillomeemf- Stars of the skies, 'Meema Crestillomeem! THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT SEMBLANCE OF CRESTILLOMEEM. [Sings.] O Prince divine/ O Prince divine/ Tempt thou me not 'with that sweet voice of thine! Though my proud brow bear the blaze of a crown, Lo, at thy feet must its glory bow down, That from the dust thou mayest lift me to shine Heaven' d in thy heart's rapture, O Prince divine! Queen of thy love ever, O Prince divine! SEMBLANCE OF JUCKLET. [Sings.] Crestillomeem! Crestillomeem! Our life shall flow as a musical stream Windingly placidly on shall it wend, Marged with mazhoora-bloom banks without end- Word-birds shall call thee and dreamily scream, "Where dost thou cruise, 'Meema Crestillomeem? Whither away, 'Meema? Crestillomeem!" 23 Duo. [Vision and voices gradually failing away.~\ Cre still ome em! Crestillomeem! Soul of my slumber! Dream of my dream! Star of Love's light, 'Meema Crestillomeem! Crescent of Night, 'Meema! Crestillomeem! [With song, vision likewise fails utterly.] CRESTILLOMEEM. [To JUCKLET, still trancedly staring upward,] How now, thy clabber-brained spudge! Thou squelk! thou JUCKLET. Nay, O Queen! contort me not To more condensed littleness than now My shamed frame incurreth on itself, 24 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Seeing what might fare with it, didst thou will Kindly to nip it with thy magic here And leave it living in that form i' the air, Forever pranking o'er the daisied sward In wake of sandal-prints that dint the dews As lightly as, in thy late maidenhood, Thine own must needs have done in flighting from The dread encroachments of the King. CRESTILLOMEEM. Nay peace! JUCKLET. So be it, O sweet Mystic. But I crave One service of thy magic yet. Amphine! Breed me some special, damned philter for Amphine the fair Amphine! to chuck it him, Some serenade-tide, in a sodden slug O' pastry, 'twixt the door-crack and a screech O' rusty hinges. Hey! Amphine, the fair! And let me, too, elect his doom, O Queen! 25 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Listed against thee, he, too, doubtless hath Been favored with an outline of our scheme. And I would kick my soul all over hell If I might juggle his fine figure up In such a shape as mine! CRESTILLOMEEM. Then this: When thou Canst come upon him bent above a flower, Or any blooming thing, and thou, arear, Shalt reach it first and, thwartwise, touch it fair, And with thy knuckle flick him on the knee, Then his fine form will shrink and shrivel up As warty as a toad's so hideous, Thine own shall seem a marvel of rare grace! Though idly speak'st thou of my mystic skill, 'Twas that which won the King for me; 'twas that Bereft him of his daughter ere we had Been wedded yet a haed: She strangely went 26 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Astray one moonset from the palace-steps She went nor yet returned. Was it not strange ?- She would be wedded to an alien prince The morrow midnight to a prince whose sire / once knew, in lost hours of lute and song, When he was but a prince I but a mouth For him to lift up sippingly and drain To lees most ultimate of stammering sobs And maudlin wanderings of blinded breath. JUCKLET. [Aside.] Ttvigg-brebbletsf but her Majesty hath speech That doth bejuice all metaphor to drip And spray and mist of sweetness! CRESTILLOMEEM. [Confusedly.'] Where was I? O, ay! The princess went she strangely went!- THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT E'en as I dreamed her lover-princeling would As strangely go, were she not soon restored. As so he did: That airy penalty The jocund Fates provide our love-lorn wights In this glad island: So for thrice three nights They spun the prince his line and marked him pay It out (despite all warnings of his doom) In fast and sleepless search for her and then They tripped his fumbling feet and he fell UP! Up! as 'tis writ sheer past Heaven's flinching walls And topmost cornices. Up up and on! And, it is grimly guessed of those who thus For such a term bemoan an absent love, And so fall w/wise, they must needs fall on And on and on and on and on and on! Ha! ha! THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT JUCKLET. Quahh! but the prince's holden breath Must ache his throat by this! But, O my Queen, What of the princess? and CRESTILLOMEEM. The princess? Ay The princess! Ay, she went she strangely went! And when the dainty vagrant came not back Both sire and son in apprehensive throes Of royal grief the very Throne befogged In sighs and tears! when all hope waned at last, And all the spies of Spirkland, in her quest, Came straggling empty-handed home again, Why, then the wise King sleeved his rainy eyes And sagely thought the pretty princess had Strayed to the island's edge and tumbled off. I could have edged his mind at ease on that 29 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT I could have told him, yea, she tumbled off / tumbled her! and tumbled her so plump, She tumbled in an under-island, then Just slow-unmooring from our own and poised For unknown voyagings of flight afar And all remote of latitudes of ours. Ay, into that land I tumbled her from which But one charm known to art can tumble her Back into this, and that charm (guilt be praised!) Is lodged not in the wit nor the desire Of my rare lore. JUCKLET. Thereinasmuch find joy! But dost thou know that rumors flutter now Among thy subjects of thy sorceries? The art being banned, thou knowest; or, unhoused, Is unleashed pitilessly by the grim, 30 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Facetious body of the dridular Upon the one who fain had loosed the curse On others. An my counsel be worth aught, Then have a care thy spells do not revert Upon thyself, nor yet mine own poor hulk O' fearsomeness! CRESTILLOMEEM. Ha! ha! No vaguest need Of apprehension there! While Krung remains [She abruptly pauses startled first, then listening curi ously and with awed interest. Voice of exquisite melodiousness and fervor heard singing.] VOICE. When kings are kings, and kings are men And the lonesome rain is raining! O who shall rule from the red throne then, And who shall covet the sceptre when When the winds are all complaining? 31 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT When men are men, and men are kings And the lonesome rain is raining! O who shall list as the minstrel sings Of the crown's fiat, or the signet-ring's, When the winds are all complaining? CRESTILLOMEEM. Whence flows such sweetness, and what voice is that? JUCKLET. The voice of Spraivoll, an mine ears be whet And honed o' late honyed memories Behaunted the deserted purlieus of The court. CRESTILLOMEEM. And who is Spraivoll, and what song Is that besung so blinding exquisite O cadenced mystery? 32 JUCKT.ET. Spraivoll O Queen, Spraivoll The Tune-Fool is she named By those who meet her ere the day long wanes And naught but janiteering sparsely frets The cushioned silences and stagnant dusts Indifferently resuscitated by The drowsy varlets in mock servitude Of so refurbishing the royal halls: She cometh, alien, from Wunkland so Hath she deposed to divers questioners Who have been smitten of her voice as rich In melody as she is poor in caste and intellect. She hath been roosting, pitied of the hinds And scullions, round about the palace here For half a node. CRESTILLOMEEM. And pray, where is she perched This wild-bird woman with her wondrous throat? 33 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT JUCKLET. Under some dingy cornice, like enough Though wild-bird she is not, being plumed in, Not feathers, but one fustioned stole the like Of which so shameth her fair face one needs Must swear some lusty oaths, but that they shape Themselves full gentlewise in mildest prayer: Not wild-bird; nay, nor woman though, in truth, She ith a licensed idiot, and drifts About, as restless and as useless, too, As any lazy breeze in summer-time. I'll call her forth to greet your Majesty. Ho! Spraivoll! Ho! my twittering birdster, flit Thou hither. [Enter SPRAIVOLL from behind group of statuary- singing.'] THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT SPRAIVOLL. Ting-aling! Ling-ting! Tingle-tee! The moon spins round and round for me! Wind it up with a golden key. Ting-aling! Ling-ting! Tingle-tee! CRESTILLOMEEM. Who art thou, and what the strange Elusive beauty and intent of thy Sweet song? What singest thou, vague, mystic-bird- What doth the Tune-Fool sing? Ay, sing me what. SPRAIVOLL. [Singing. 1 ] What sings the breene on the wertling-vine, And the tweck on the bamner-stem? Their song, to me, is the same as mine, As mine is the same to them to them As mine is the same to them. 35 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT In star-starved glooms where the plustre looms With its slender boughs above, Their song sprays down with the fragrant blooms,- And the song they sing is love is love And the song they sing is love. JUCKLET. Your Majesty may be surprised somewhat, But Spraivoll cannot talk, her only mode Of speech is melody; and thou might'st put The dowered fool a thousand queries, and, In like return, receive a thousand songs, All set to different tunes as full of naught As space is full of emptiness. CRESTILLOMEEM. A fool? And with a gift so all-divine! A fool? 36 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT JUCKLET. Ay, warranted! The Flying Islands all Might flock in mighty counsel moult, and shake Their loosened feathers, and sort every tuft, Nor ever most minutely quarry there One other Spraivoll, itching with her voice Such favored spot of cuticle as she Alone selects here in our blissful realm. CRESTILLOMEEM. Out, jester, on thy cumbrous wordiness! Come hither, Tune-Fool, and be not afraid, For I like fools so well I married one: And since thou art a Queen of fools, and he A King, why, I've a mind to bring ye two Together in some wise. Canst use thy song All times in such entrancing spirit one Who lists must so needs list, e'en though the song Go on unceasingly indefinite? 37 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT SPRAIVOLL. [Singing."] If one should ask me for a song, Then I should answer, and my tongue Would twitter, trill and troll along Until the song were done. Or should one ask me for my tongue, And I should answer with a song, I'd trill it till the song were sung, And troll it all along. CRESTILLOMEEM. Thou art indeed a fool, and one, I think, To serve my present purposes. Give ear. And Jucklet, thou, go to the King and bide His waking: then repeat these words: "The Queen Impatiently awaits his Majesty, And craves his presence in the Tower of Stars, That she may there express full tenderly 38 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Her great solicitude." And then, end thus, "So much she bade, and drooped her glowing face Deep in the shoiverings of her golden hair, And 'with a flashing gesture of her arm Turned all the moonlight pallid, saying, 'Haste!'" JUCKLET. And would it not be well to hang a pearl Or twain upon thy silken lashes? CRESTILLOMEEM. Go! JUCKLET. [Exit, singing.'] This lovely husband's loyal breast Heaved only as she might suggest,- To every whimsy she expressed He proudly bowed and acquiesced. 39 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT He plotted with her, blithe and gay In no flirtation said her nay, He even took her to the play, Excused himself and came away. CRESTILLOMEEM. [To Spraivoll.'] Now, Tune-Fool, junior, let me theme thee for A song: An Empress once, with angel in Her face and devil in her heart, had wish To breed confusion to her sovereign lord, And work the downfall of his haughty son The issue of a former marriage who Bellowsed her hatred to the whitest heat, For that her own son, by a former lord, Was born a hideous dwarf, and reared aside From the sire's knowing or his princely own That none, in sooth, might ever chance to guess The hapless mother of the hapless child. The Fiends that scar her thus, protect her still With outward beauty of both face and form. 40 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT It so is written, and so must remain Till magic greater than their own is found To hurl against her. So is she secure And proof above all fear. Now, listen well! Her present lord is haunted with a dream, That he is soon to pass, and so prepares (All havoc hath been 'wrangled with the drugs!} The Throne for the ascension of the son, His cursed heir, who still doth baffle all Her arts against him, e'en as though he were Protected by a skill beyond her own. Soh! she, the Queen, doth rule the King in all Save this affectionate perversity Of favor for the son whom he would raise To his own place. And but for this the King Long since had tasted death and kissed his fate As one might kiss a bride! But so his Queen Must needs withhold, not deal, the final blow, She yet doth bind him, spelled, still trusting her; And, by her craft and wanton flatteries, Doth sway his love to every purpose but 41 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT The one most coveted. And for this end She would make use of thee; and if thou dost Her will, as her good pleasure shall direct, Why, thou shalt sing at court, in silken tire, Thy brow bound with wild diamonds, and thy hair Sown with such gems as laugh hysteric lights From glittering quespar, guenk and plennocynth, Ay, even panoplied as might the fair Form of a very princess be, thy voice Shall woo the echoes of the listening Throne. SPRAIVOLL. [Crooning abstractedly.] And O! shall one high brother of the air, In deeps of space shall he have dream as fair? And shall that dream be this? In some strange place Of long-lost lands he finds her waiting face Comes marvelling upon it, unaware, Set moonwise in the midnight of her hair, And is behaunted with old nights of May, So his glad lips do purl a roundelay Purloined from the echo-triller's beak, 42 (t 1 I. THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Seen keenly notching at some star's blanch cheek With its ecstatic twitterings, through dusk And sheen of dewy boughs of bloom and musk. For him, Love, light again the eyes of her That show nor tears nor laughter nor surprise For him undim their glamour and the blur Of dreams drawn from the depths of deepest skies. He doth not know if any lily blows As fair of feature, nor of any rose. CRESTILLOMEEM. [Aside.] O this weird woman! she doth drug mine ears With her uncanny sumptuousness of song! [To SpraivollJ] Nay, nay! Give o'er thy tuneful maunderings And mark me further, Tune-Fool ay, and well: At present doth the King lie in a sleep Drug-wrought and deep as death the after-phase Of an unconscious state, in which each act Of his throughout his waking hours is so Rehearsed, in manner, motion, deed and word, 43 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Her spies (the Queen's) that watch him, serving there As guardians o'er his royal slumbers, may Inform her of her lord's most secret thought. And lo, her plans have ripened even now Till, should he come upon his Throne to-night, Where eagerly his counsellors will bide His coming, she, the Queen, hath reason to Suspect her long-designed purposes May fall in jeopardy; but if he fail, Through any means, to lend his presence there, Then, by a wheedled mandate, is his Queen Empowered with all Sovereignty to reign And work the royal purposes instead. Therefore, the Queen hath set an interview A conference to be holden with the King, Which is ordained to fall on noon to-night, Twelve star-twirls ere the nick the Throne convenes. And with her thou shalt go, and bide in wait Until she signal thee to sing; and then 44 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Shalt thou so work upon his mellow mood With that un-Spirkly magic of thy voice So all bedaze his waking thought with dreams,- The Queen may, all unnoticed, slip away, And leave thee singing to a throneless King. SPRAIVOLL. [Singing.'] And who shall sing for the haughty son While the good King droops his head? And will he dream, when the song is done, That a princess fair lies dead? CRESTILLOMEEM. The haughty son hath found his "Song" sweet curse/ And may she sing his everlasting dirge! She comes from that near-floating land of thine, Naming herself a princess of that realm So strangely peopled we would fain evade 45 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT All mergence, and remain as strange to them As they to us. No less this Dwainie hath Most sinuously writhed and lithed her way Into court-favor here hath glidden past The King's encharmed sight and sleeked herself Within the very altars of his house His line his blood his very \\te\-AMPHINEt Not any Spirkland gentlemaiden might Aspire so high as she hath dared to dare! For she, with her fair skin and finer ways, And beauty second only to the Queen's, Hath caught the prince betwixt her mellow palms And stroked him flutterless. Didst ever thou In thy land hear of Dwainie of the Wunks? SPRAIVOLL. [Singing.] Ay, Dwainie! My Dwainie! The lurloo ever sings, A tremor in his flossy crest And in his glossy wings. 46 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT And Dwainie! My Dwainie! The winno-welvers call ; But Dwainie hides in Spirkland And answers not at all. The teeper twitters Dwainie! The tcheucker on his spray Teeters up and down the wind And will not fly away: And Dwainie! My Dwainie! The drowsy covers drawl ; But Dwainie hides in Spirkland And answers not at all. O Dwainie! My Dwainie! The breezes hold their breath The stars are pale as blossoms, And the night is still as death; And Dwainie! My Dwainie! The fainting echoes fall; But Dwainie hides in Spirkland And answers not at all. 47 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT CRESTILLOMEEM. A melody ecstatic! and thy words, Although so meaningless, seem something more A vague and shadowy something, eerie-like, That maketh one to shiver over-chilled With curious, creeping sweetnesses of pain 'And catching breaths that flutter tremulous With sighs that dry the throat out icily. But save thy music! Come! that I may make Thee ready for thy royal auditor. [Exeunt] END ACT I. ACT II. SCENE I. A garden of KRUNO'S Palace, screened from the moon with netted glenk-vines and blooming zhoomer-boughs, all glimmeringly lighted with star-flakes. An arbor, near which is a table spread with a repast two seats, drawn either side. A play ing fountain, at marge of which AMPHINE sits thrumming a trentoraine. AMPHINE. [Improvising.'] Ah, help me! but her face and brow Are lovelier than lilies are Beneath the light of moon and star That smile as they are smiling now White lilies in a pallid swoon Of sweetest white beneath the moon 49 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT White lilies in a flood of bright Pure lucidness of liquid-light Cascading down some plenilune When all the azure overhead Blooms like a dazzling daisy-bed. So luminous her face and brow The lustre of their glory, shed In memory, even, blinds me now. [Plaintively addressing instrument.] O warbling strand of silver, where, O where Hast thou unravelled that sweet voice of thine And left its silken murmurs quavering In limp thrills of delight? O golden wire, Where hast thou spilled thy precious twinkerings?- What thirsty ear hath drained thy melody, And left me but a wild, delirious drop To tincture all my soul with vain desire? 50 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT [Improvising.] Her face her brow her hair unfurled! And O the oval chin below, Carved, like a cunning cameo, With one exquisite dimple, swirled With swimming shine and shade, and whirled The daintiest vortex poets know The sweetest whirlpool ever twirled By Cupid's finger-tip, and so, The deadliest maelstrom in the world. [Pauses. Enter DWAINIE, behind, in upper bower, un- perceivedJ] AMPHINE. [Again addressing instrument.] O Trentoraine! how like an emptied vase Thou art whose clustering blooms of song have drooped And faded, one by one, and fallen away And left to me but dry and tuneless stems 51 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT And crisp and withered tendrils of a voice Whose thrilling tone, now like a throttled sound, Lies stifled, faint, and gasping all in vain For utterance. [Again improvising.] And O mad wars of blinding blurs And flashings of lance-blades of light, Whet glitteringly athwart the sight That dares confront those eyes of hers ! Let any dewdrop soak the hue Of any violet through and through, And then be colorless and dull, Compared with eyes so beautiful! I swear ye that her eyes be bright As noonday, yet as dark as night As bright as be the burnished bars Of rainbows set in sunny skies, And yet as deep and dark, her eyes, And lustrous black as blown-out stars. 52 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT [Pauses DWAINIE still unperceived, radiantly smiling and wafting kisses down from trellis-window above.] AMPHINE. [Again to instrument.] O empty husk of song! If deep within my heart the music thou Hast stored away might find an issuance, A fount of limpid laughter would leap up And gurgle from my lips, and all t'he winds Would revel with it, riotous with joy; And Dwainie, in her beauty, would lean o'er The battlements of night, and, like the moon, The glory of her face would light the world For I would sing of love. DWAINIE. And she would hear, And, reaching overhead among the stars, Would scatter them like daisies at thy feet. 53 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT AMPHINE. voice, where art thou floating on the air? Q Seraph-soul, where art thou hovering? DWAINIE. 1 hover in the zephyr of thy sighs, And tremble lest thy love for me shall fail To buoy me thus forever on the breath * Of such a dream as Heaven envies. AMPHINE. Ah! [Turning, discovers DWAINIE she feigning, still, invisi bility, while he, with lifted eyes and wistful gaze, preludes with instrument then singsJ] Linger, My Dwainie! Dwainie, lily-fair, Stay yet thy step upon the casement-stair Poised be thy slipper-tip as is the tine Of some still star.- Ah, Dwainie Dwainie mine, Yet linger linger there! 54 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Thy face, O Dwainie, lily-pure and fair, Gleams i' the dusk, as in thy dusky hair The moony zhoomer glimmers, or the shine Of thy swift smile. Ah, Dwainie Dwainie mine, Yet linger linger there ! With lifted wrist, whereround the laughing air Hath blown a mist of lawn and clasped it there, Waft fmger-thipt adieus that spray the wine Of thy waste kisses to'rd me, Dwainie mine Yet linger linger there! What unloosed splendor is there may compare With thy hand's unfurled glory, anywhere? What glint of dazzling dew or jewel fine May mate thine eyes? Ah, Dwainie Dwainie mine! Yet linger linger there! THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT My soul comforts thee: On thy brow and hair It lays its tenderness like palms of prayer It touches sacredly those lips of thine And swoons across thy spirit, Dwainie mine, The while thou lingerest there. [Drops trentoraine, and, 'with open arms, gazes yearn ingly on DWAINIE.] DWAINIE. \_Raptly.'] Thy words do wing my being dovewise! AMPHINE. Then, Thou lovest! O my homing dove, veer down And nestle in the warm home of my breast! So empty are mine arms, so full my heart, The one must hold thee, or the other burst. DWAINIE. [Throwing herself in his embrace."} Iffio's own hand methinks hath flung me here: O hold me that He may not pluck me back! 56 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT AMPHINE. So closely will I hold thee that not e'en The hand of death shall separate us. DWAINIE. So May sweet death find us, then, that, woven thus In the corollo of a ripe caress, We may drop lightly, like twin plustre-buds, On Heaven's star-strewn lawn. AMPHINE. So do I pray. But tell me, tender heart, an thou dost love, Where hast thou loitered for so long? for thou Didst promise tryst here with me earlier by Some several layodemes which I have told Full chafingly against my finger-tips Till the full complement, save three, are ranged Thy pitiless accusers, claiming, each, 57 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT So many as their joined number be Shalt thou so many times lift up thy lips For mine's most lingering forgiveness. So, save thee, O my Sweet! and rest thee, I Have ordered merl and viands to be brought For our refreshment here, where, thus alone, I may sip words with thee as well as wine. Why hast thou kept me so athirst? Why, I Am jealous of the flattered solitudes In which thou walkest. [They sit at table. ,] DWAINIE. Nay, I will not tell, Since, an I yielded, countless questions, like In idlest worth, would waste our interview In speculations vain. Let this suffice: I stayed to talk with one whom, long ago, I met and knew, and grew to love, forsooth, In dreamy Wunkland. Talked of mellow nights, And long, long hours of golden olden times 58 When girlish happiness locked hands with me And we went spinning round, with naked feet In swaths of bruised roses ankle-deep ; When laughter rang unsilenced, unrebuked, And prayers went unremembered, oozing clean From the drowsed memory, as from the eyes The pure, sweet mother-face that bent above Glimmered and wavered, blurred, bent closer still A timeless instant, like a shadowy flame, Then flickered tremulously o'er the brow And went out in a kiss. AMPHINE. [Kissing her.~\ Not like to this I O blessed lips whose kiss alone may be Sweeter than their sweet speech! Speak on, and say Of what else talked thou and thy friend? DWAINIE. We talked Of all the past, ah me! and all the friends That now await my coming. And we talked 59 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Of O so many things so many things That I but blend them all with dreams of when, With thy warm hand clasped close in this of mine, We cross the floating bridge that soon again Will span the all-unfathomable gulfs Of nether air betwixt this isle of strife And my most glorious realm of changeless peace, Where summer night reigns ever and the moon Hangs ever ripe and lush with radiance Above a land where roses float on wings And fan their fragrance out so lavishly That Heaven hath hint of it, and oft therefrom Sends down to us across the odorous seas Strange argosies of interchanging bud And blossom, spice and balm. Sweet sweet Beyond all art and wit of uttering. AMPHINE. O Empress of my listening Soul, speak on, And tell me all of that rare land of thine! For even though I reigned a peerless king 60 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Within mine own, methinks I could fling down My sceptre, signet, crown and royal might, And so fare down the thorned path of life If at its dwindling end my feet might touch Upon the shores of such a land as thou Dost paint for me thy realm! Tell on of it And tell me if thy sister-woman there Is like to thee Yet nay! for an thou didst, These eyes would lose all speech of sight And call not back to thine their utter love. But tell me of thy brothers. Are they great, And can they grapple /Eo's arguments Beyond our skill? or wrest a purpose from The pink side of the moon at Darsten-tide? Or cipher out the problem of blind stars, That ever still do safely grope their way Among the thronging constellations? DWAINIE. Ay! Ay, they have leaped all earthland barriers In mine own isle of wisdom-working Wunks: 61 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT 'Twas Wunkland's son that voyaged round the moon And moored his bark within the molten bays Of bubbling silver: And 'twas Wunkland's son That talked with Mars unbuckled Saturn's belt And tightened it in squeezure of such facts Therefrom as even he dare not disclose In full till all his followers, as himself, Have grown them wings, and gat them beaks and claws, With plumage all bescienced to withstand All tensest flames glaze-throated, too, and lung'd To swallow fiercest-spirited jets and cores Of embered and unquenchable white heat: 'Twas Wunkland's son that alchemized the dews And bred all colored grasses that he wist Divorced the airs and mists and caught the trick Of azure-tinting earth as well as sky: 'Twas Wunkland's son that bent the rainbow straight And walked it like a street, and so returned To tell us it was made of hammered shine, 62 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Inlaid with strips of selvage -from the sun And burnished with the rust of rotten stars : 'Twas Wunkland's son that comprehended first All grosser things, and took our worlds apart And oiled their works with theories that clicked In glib articulation with the pulse And palpitation of the systemed facts. And, circling ever round the farthest reach Of the remotest welkin of all truths, We stint not our investigations to Our worlds only, but query still beyond. For now our goolores say, below these isles A million million miles, are other worlds Not like to ours, but round, as bubbles are, And, like them, ever reeling on through space, And anchorless through all eternity; Not like to ours, for our isles, as they note, Are living things that fly about at night, And soar above and cling, throughout the day, Like bats, beneath the bent sills of the skies ; And I myself have heard, at dawn of moon, 63 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT A liquid music filtered through my dreams, As though 'twere myriads of sweet voices, pent In some o'erhanging realm, had spilled themselves In streams of melody that trickled through The chinks and crannies of a crystal pave, Until the wasted juice of harmony, Slow-leaking o'er my senses, laved my soul In ecstasy divine: And afferhaiks, Who scour our coasts on missions for the King, Declare our island's shape is like the zhibb's When lolling in a trance upon the air With open wings upslant and motionless. O such a land it is so all complete In all wise habitants, and knowledge, lore, Arts, sciences, perfected government And kingly wisdom, worth and majesty And Art ineffably above all else: The art of the Romancer, fabulous Beyond the miracles of strangest fact; The art of Poesy, the sanest soul Is made mad with its uttering; the art 64 X 1 v^, THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Of Music, words may not e'en whimper what The jewel-sounds of song yield to the sense ; And, last, the art of Knowing what to Know, And how to zoon straight to'rd like a bee, Draining or song or poem as it brims And over-runs with raciest spirit-dew. And, after, chaos all to sense like thine, Till there, translated, thou shalt know as I. . . So furnished forth in all things lovable Is my Land-Wondrous ay, and thine to be, O Amphine, love of mine, it lacks but thy Sweet presence to make it a paradise! [Takes up trentoraine.J And shall I tell thee of the home that waits For thy glad coming, Amphine?- Listen, then! 65 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT CHANT- RECITATIVE. A palace veiled in a glimmering dusk; Warm breaths of a tropic air, Drugged with the odorous marzhoo's musk And the sumptuous cyncotwaire Where the trembling hands of the lilwing's leaves The winds caress and fawn, While the dreamy starlight idly weaves Designs for the damask lawn. Densed in the depths of a dim eclipse Of palms, in a flowery space, A fountain leaps from the marble lips Of a girl, with a golden vase Held atip on a curving wrist, Drinking the drops that glance Laughingly in the glittering mist Of her crystal utterance. 66 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Archways looped o'er blooming walks That lead through gleaming halls; And balconies where the word-bird talks To the tittering waterfalls : And casements, gauzed with the filmy sheen Of a lace that sifts the sight Through a ghost of bloom on the haunted screen That drips with the dews of light. Weird, pale shapes of sculptured stone, With marble nymphs agaze Ever in fonts of amber, sown With seeds of gold and sprays Of emerald mosses, ever drowned, Where glimpses of shell and gem Peer from the depths, as round and round The nautilus nods at them. Faces blurred in a mazy dance, With a music, wild and sweet, Spinning the threads of the mad romance That tangles the waltzers' feet: 67 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Twining arms, and warm, swift thrills That pulse to the melody, Till the soul of the dancer dips and fills In the wells of ecstasy. Eyes that melt in a quivering ore Of love, and the molten kiss Jetted forth of the hearts that pour Their blood in the moulds of bliss. Till, worn to a languor slumber-deep, The soul of the dreamer lifts A silken sail on the gulfs of sleep, And into the darkness drifts. [The instrument falls from her hands AMPHINE, in stress of passionate delight, embraces her.~\ 'GO ' THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT AMPHINE. Thou art not all of earth, O angel one! Nor do I far miswonder me an thou Hast peered above the very walls of Heaven! What hast thou seen there? Didst on Jo bask Thine eyes and clothe Him with new splendorings? And strove He to fling back as bright a smile As thine, the while He beckoned thee within? And, tell me, didst thou meet an angel there A-linger at the gates, nor entering Till I, her brother, joined her? DWAINIE. Why, hast thou A sister dead? Truth, I have heard of one Long lost to thee not dead? AMPHINE. Of her I speak, And dead, although we know not certainly, We moan us ever it must needs be death 69 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Only could hold her from us such long term Of changeless yearning for her glad return. She strayed away from us long, long ago. O and our memories! Her wandering eyes That seemed as though they ever looked on things We might not see as haply so they did, For she went from us, all so suddenly So strangely vanished, leaving never trace Of her outgoing, that I ofttimes think Her rapt eyes fell along some certain path Of special glory paven for her feet, And fashioned of /Eo's supreme desire That she might bend her steps therein and so Reach Him again, unseen of our mere eyes. My sweet, sweet sister! lost to brother sire And, to her heart, one dearer than all else, Her lover lost indeed! DWAINIE. Nay, do not grieve Thee thus, O loving heart! Thy sister yet THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT May come to thee in some glad way the Fates Are fashioning the while thy tear-drops fall! So calm thee, while I speak of thine own self. For I have listened to a whistling bird That pipes of waiting danger. Didst thou note No strange behavior of thy sire of late? AMPHINE. Ay, he is silent, and he walks as one In some fixed melancholy, or as one Half waking. Even his worshipped books seem now But things on shelves. DWAINIE. And doth he counsel not With thee in any wise pertaining to His ailings, or of matters looking toward His future purposes or his intents Regarding thine own future fortunings 71 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT And his desires and interests therein? What bearing hath he shown of late toward thee By which thou might'st bef rame some estimate Of his mind's placid flow or turbulent? And hath he not so spoken thee at times Thou hast been 'wildered of his words, or grieved Of his strange manner? AMPHINE. Once he stayed me on The palace-stair and whispered, "Lo, my son, Thy young reign draweth nigh prepare!" So passed And vanished as a wraith, so wan he was! DWAINIE. And didst thou never reason on this thing, Nor ask thyself what dims thy father's eye And makes a brooding shadow of his form? 72 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT AMPHINE. Why, there's a household rumor that he dreams Death fareth ever at his side, and soon Shall signal him away. But Jucklet saith Crestillomeem hath said the leeches say There is no cause for serious concern; And thus am I assured 'tis nothing more Than childish fancy of mine aging sire, And so, as now, I laugh, full reverently, And marvel, as I mark his shuffling gait, And his bestrangered air and murmurous lips, As by he glideth to and fro, ha! ha! Ho! ho! I laugh me many, many times Mind, thou, 'tis reverently I laugh ha! ha! And wonder, as he glideth ghostly-wise, If ever I shall waver as I walk, And stumble o'er my beard, and knit my brows. And o'er the dull mosaics of the pave Play chequers with mine eyes! Ha! ha! 73 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT DWAINIE. [Aside.] How dare How dare I tell him? Yet I must I must! AMPHINE. Why, art thou, too, grown childish, that thou canst Find thee waste pleasure talking to thyself And staring frowningly with eyes whose smiles I need so much? DWAINIE. Nay, rather say, their tears, Poor thoughtless Prince! [Aside .] (My magic even now Forecasts his kingly sire's near happening Of nameless hurt and ache and awful stress Of agony supreme, when he shall stare The stark truth in the face!) AMPHINE. What meanest thou? 74 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT DWAINIE. What mean I but thy welfare? Why, I mean, One hour agone, the Queen, thy mother AMPHINE. Say only "Queen' Nay, DWAINIE. -The Queen, one hour agone As so I learned from source I need not say Sent message craving audience with the King At noon to-night, within the Tower of Stars. Thou knowest, only brief space following The time of her pent session thereso set In secret with the King alone, the Throne, Is set, too, to convene; and that the King Hath lent his seal unto a mandate that, Should he 'withhold his presence there, the Queen Shall be empowered to preside to reign Solely endowed to work the royal will 75 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT In lieu of the good King. Now, therefore, I Have been advised that she, the Queen, by craft Connives to hold him absent purposely, That she may claim the vacancy for what Covert design I know not, but I know It augurs peril to ye both, as to The Throne's own perpetuity. [Aside.'] (Again My magic gives me vision terrible: The Sorceress' legions balk mine own. The King Still hers, yet wavering. O save the King, Thou /Eo! Render him to us!) AMPHINE. I feel Thou speakest truth: and yet how know'st thou this? DWAINIE. Ask me not that; my lips are welded close. And, more, since I have dared to speak, and thou To listen, Jucklet is accessory, And even now is plotting for thy fall. 76 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT But, Passion of my Soul! think not of me, For nothing but sheer magic may avail To work me harm; but look thou to thyself! For thou art blameless cause of all the hate That rankleth in the bosom of the Queen. So have thine eyes unslumbered ever, that No step may steal behind thee for in this Unlooked-of way thine enemy will come: This much I know, but for what fell intent Dare not surmise. So look thou, night and day, That none may skulk upon thee in this wise Of dastardly attack. \_Aside.~\ (Ha! Sorceress! Thou palest, tossing wild and wantonly The smothering golden tempest of thy hair. What! lying eyes! ye dare to utter tears? Help! help! Yield us the King!) AMPHINE. And thou, O sweet! How art thou guarded and what shield is thine Of safety? 77 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT DWAINIE. Fear not thou for me at all. Possessed am I of wondrous sorcery The gift of Holy Magi at my birth: Mine enemy must front me in assault And must with mummery of speech assail, And I will know him in first utterance And so may thus disarm him, though he be A giant thrice in vasty form and force. [Singing heard.~\ But, list! what wandering minstrel cometh here In the young night? VOICE. [In distance singing."] The drowsy eyes of the stars grow dim; The wamboo roosts on the rainbow's rim, And the moon is a ghost of shine: The soothing song of the crule is done, But the song of love is a soother one, And the song of love is mine. 78 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Then, wake! O wake/ For the sweet song's sake, Nor let my heart With the morning break! AMPHINE. Some serenader. Hist! What meaneth he so early, and what thus Within the palace garden-close? Quick; here! Heneareth! Soh! Let us conceal ourselves And mark his action, wholly unobserved. [AMPHINE and DWAINIE enter bower.] VOICE. [Drawing nearer.] The mist of the morning, chill and gray, Wraps the night in a shroud of spray; The sun is a crimson blot: The moon fades fast, and the stars take wing. The comet's tail is a fleeting thing But the tale of love is not. 79 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Then, wake! O wake! For the sweet song's sake, Nor let my heart With the morning break! [Enter JUCKLET.] JUCKLET. Eex! what a sumptuous darkness is the Night How rich and deep and suave and velvety Its lovely blackness to a soul like mine! Ah, Night! thou densest of all mysteries Thou eeriest of unfathomable delights, Whose soundless sheer inscrutability Is fascination's own ethereal self, Unseen, and yet embodied palpable, An essence, yet a form of stableness That stays me weighs me, as a giant palm Were laid on either shoulder. Peace! I cease Even to strive to grope one further pace, But stand uncovered and with lifted face. 80 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT but a glamour of inward light Hath smitten the eyes of my soul to-night! Groping here in the garden-land, 1 feel my fancy's outheld hand Touch the rim of a realm that seems Like an isle of bloom in a sea of dreams: I stand mazed, dazed and alone alone! My heart beats on in an undertone, And I lean and listen long, and long, And I hold my breath as I hear again The chords of a long-dead trentoraine And the wraith of an old love-song. Low to myself am I whispering: Glad am I, and the Night knows why- Glad am I that the dream came by And found me here as of old when I Was a ruler and a king. DWAINIE. [To Amphine.~] What gentle little monster is this dwarf Surely not Jucklet of the Court? 81 u THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT AMPHINE. [Ironically.] Ay, ay! But he'll ungentle an thy woman's-heart Yield him but space. Listen: he mouths again. JUCKLET. It was an age ago an age Turned down in life like a folded page. See where the volume falls apart, And the faded bookmark 'tis my heart, Nor mine alone, but another knit So cunningly in the love of it That you must look, with a shaking head, Nor know the quick one from the dead. Ah! what a broad and sea-like lawn Is the field of love they bloom upon! Waves of its violet-velvet grass Billowing, with the winds that pass, And breaking in a snow-white foam Of lily-crests on the shores of home. 82 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Low to myself am I whispering: Glad am I, and the Night knows why Glad am I that the dream came by And found me here as of old when I Was a ruler and a king. [Abruptly breaking into impassioned vocal burst.~\ SONG. Fold me away in your arms, O Night Night, my Night, with your rich black hair!- Tumble it down till my yearning sight And my unkissed lips are hidden quite And my heart is havened there, Under that mystical dark despair Under your rich black hair. Oft have I looked in your eyes, O Night Night, my Night, with your rich black hair!- Looked in your eyes till my face waned white And my heart laid hold of a mad delight 83 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT That moaned as I held it there Under the deeps of that dark despair Under your rich black hair. Just for a kiss of your mouth, O Night Night, my Night, with your rich black hair!- Lo! will I wait as a dead man might Wait for the Judgment's dawning light, With my lips in a frozen prayer Under this lovable dark despair Under your rich black hair. [With swift change to mood of utter gayety.] Ho! ho! what will my dainty mistress say When I shall stand knee-deep in the wet grass Beneath her lattice, and with upturned eyes And tongue out-lolling like the clapper of A bell, outpour her that? I wonder now If she will not put up her finger'thus, And say, "Hist! heart of mine! the angels call 84 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT To thee!" Ho! ho! Or will her blushing face Light up her dim boudoir and, from her glass, Flare back to her a flame upsprouting from The hot-cored socket of a soul whose light She thought long since had guttered out? Ho! ho! Or, haply, will she chastely bend above A Parian phantomette, with head atip And twinkling ringers dusting down the dews That glitter on the tarapyzma-vines That riot round her casement gathering Lush blooms to pelt me with while I below All winkingly await the fragrant shower? Ho! ho! how jolly is this thing of love! But how much richer, rarer, jollier Than all the loves is this rare love of mine! Why, my sweet Princess doth not even dream I am her lover, for, to here confess, I have a way of wooing all mine own, And waste scant speech in creamy compliment And courtesies all gaumed with winy words. In sooth, I do not woo at all I win/ 85 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT How is it now the old duet doth glide Itself full ripplingly adown the grooves Of its quaint melody? And whoso, by The bye, or by the way, or for the nonce, Or, eke ye, per adventure, ever durst Render a duet singly but myself? fe X [Singing with grotesque mimicry of two voices.] JUCKLET'S OSTENSIBLE DUET. 'e^ & How is it you woo? and now answer me true, How is it you woo and you win? Why, to answer you true, the first thing that you do Is to simply, my dearest begin. But how can I begin to woo or to win When I don't know a Win from a Woo? Why, cover your chin with your fan or your fin, And I'll introduce them to you. 86 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT But what if it drew from my parents a view With my own in no manner akin? No matter! your view shall be first of the two, So I hasten to usher them in. Nay, stay! Shall I grin at the Woo or the Win? And what will he do if I do? Why, the Woo will begin with "How pleasant it's been!" And the Win with "Delighted with you!" Then supposing he grew very dear to my view I'm speaking, you know, of the Win? Why, then, you should do what he wanted you to, And now is the time to begin. The time to begin? O then usher him in Let him say what he wants me to do. He is here. He's a twin of yourself, I am "Win,' And you are, my darling, my "Woo"! 87 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT [Capering and courtesying to feigned audience^] That song I call most sensible nonsense; And if the fair and peerless Dwainie were But here, with that sweet voice of hers, to take The part of "Woo," I'd be the happiest "Win" On this side of futurity! Ho! ho! DWAINIE. [Aside to AMPHINE.] What means he? AMPHINE. Why, he means that throatless head Of his needs further chucking down betwixt His cloven shoulders! [Starting forward Dwainie detaining him.~\ DWAINIE. Nay, thou shalt not stir! See! now the monster hath discovered our Repast. Hold! Let us mark him further. THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT JUCKLET. [Archly eying viands.] What! A roasted wheffle and a toe-spiced whum, Tricked with a larvey and a gherghgling's tail! And, sprit me! wine enough to swim them in! Now I should like to put a question to The guests; but as there are none, I direct Mine interrogatory to the host. [Bowing to vacancy] Am I behind- time? Then I can but trust My tardy coming may be overlooked In my most active effort to regain * A gracious tolerance by service now: Directing rapt attention to the fact That I have brought mine appetite along, I can but feel, ho! ho! that further words Would be a waste of speech. [Sits at table pours out wine, drinks and eats voraciously] 89 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT There was a time When I was rather backward in my ways In courtly company (as though, forsooth, I felt not, from my very birth, the swish Of royal blood along my veins, though bred Amongst the treacled scullions and the thralls I shot from, like a cork, in youthful years, Into court-favor by my wit's sheer stress Of fomentation. Pah! the stench o' toil!) Ay, somehow, as I think, I've all outgrown That coarse, nice age, wherein one makes a meal Of two estardles and a fork of soup. Hey! sanaloo! Lest my starved stomach stand Awe-stricken and aghast, with mouth agape Before the rich profusion of this feast, I lubricate it with a glass of merl And coax it on to more familiar terms Of fellowship with those delectables. [Pours wine and holds up goblet 'with mock courtliness.~\ 90 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Mine host! Thou of the viewless presence and Hush-haunted lip: Thy most imperial, Ethereal, and immaterial health! Live till the sun dries up, and comb thy cares With star-prongs till the comets fizzle out And fade away and fail and are no more! [Drains and refills goblet.~\ And, if thou wilt permit me to observe, The gleaming shaft of spirit in this wine Goes whistling to its mark, and full and fair Zipps to the target-centre of my soul! Why, now am I the veriest gentleman, That ever buttered woman with a smile, And let her melt and run and drip and ooze All over and around a wanton heart! And if my mistress bent above me now, In all my hideous deformity, I think she would look over, as it were, The hump upon my back, and so forget The kinks and knuckles of my crooked legs, 91 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT' In this enchanting smile, she needs must leap, Love-dazzled, and fall faint and fluttering Within these yawning, all-devouring arms Of mine! Ho! ho! And yet Crestillomeem Would have me blight my dainty Dwainie with This feather from the Devil's wing! But I Am far too full of craft to spoil the eyes That yet shall pour their love like nectar out Into mine own, and I am far too deep For royal wit to wade my purposes. DWAINIE. [To AMPHINE.] What can he mean? AMPHINE. [Chafing in suppressed frenzy. .] Ha! to rush forward and Tear out his tongue and slap it in his face! DWAINIE. [To AMPHINE.] Nay, nay! Hist what he saith! 92 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT JUCKLET. How big a fool How all magnificent an idiot Would I be to blight her (my peerless one! My very soul's soul!) as Crestillomeem Doth instigate me to, for her hate's sake And inward jealousy, as well, belike! Wouldst have my Dwainie blinded to my charms- For charms, good sooth, were every several flaw Of my malformed outer-self, compared With that his Handsomeness the Prince Amphine Shalt change to at a breath of my puff'd cheek, E'en were it weedy-bearded at the time With such a stubble as a huntsman well Might lose his spaniel in! Ho! ho! Ho! ho! I fear me, O my coy Crestillomeem, Thine ancient coquetry doth challenge still Thine own vain admiration overmuch! / to crush her? when thou, as certainly, Hast armed me to smite down the only bar 93 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT That lies betwixt her love and mine? Ho! ho! Hey! but the revel I shall riot in Above the beauteous Prince, instantuously Made all abhorrent as a reptiled bulk! Ho! ho! my princely wooer of the fair Rare lady of mine own superior choice! Pah! but my very 'maginings of him Refined to that shamed, sickening shape, Do so beloathe me of him there be qualms Expostulating in my forum now! Ho! what unprincifying properties Of medication hath her Majesty Put in my tender charge! Ho! ho! Ho! ho! Ah, Dwainie! sweetest sweet! what shock to thee?- I wonder, when she sees the human toad Squat at her feet and cock his filmy eyes Upon her and croak love, if she will not Call me to tweezer him with two long sticks And toss him from her path. O ho ! Ho ! ho ! 94 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Hell bend him o'er some blossom quick, that 1 May have one brother in the flesh! [Nods drowsily.] DWAINIE. [To AMPHINE.] Ha! See! He groweth drunken. Soh! Bide yet a spell And I will vex him with my sorcery: Then shall we hence, for lo, the node when all Our subtlest arts and strategies must needs Be quickened into acts and swift results. Now bide thou here, and in mute silence mark The righteous penalty that hath accrued Upon that dwarfed monster. [She stands, still in concealment from the dwarf, her tense gaze fixed upon him as though in mute and painful act of incantation. JUCKLET affected drowsily yawns and mumbles incoherently stretches, and gradually sinks at full length on the sward. 95 s Iv. THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT What may I pray, JEol For the poor hutched cot Where death sate squat Midst my first memories? Lo ! My mother's face (they, whispering, told me so) That face! so pinchedly It blanched up, as they lifted me Its frozen eyelids would Not part, nor could Be ever wetted open with warm tears. . . . Who hears The prayers for all dead-mother-sakes, JEol Leastwise one mercy: May I not have leave to pray All self to pass away Forgetful of all needs mine own Neglectful of all creeds ; alone, Stand fronting Thy high throne and say: To Thee, O Infinite, I pray Shield Thou mine enemy! 106 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT [Music throughout supplication gradually softens and sweetens into utter gentleness, with scene slow-fading into densest night.~\ END ACT II. 107 ACT III. SCENE I. Court of KRUNO Royal Ministers, Counsel lors, etc., in session. CRESTILLOMEEM, in full blazonry of regal attire, presiding. She signals a Herald at her left, who steps forward. Blare of trumpets, greeted with ominous murmurings within, blent with tumult from without. HERALD. Hist, ho! Ay, ay! Ay, ay! Her Majesty, The All-Glorious and Ever-Gracious Queen, Crestillomeem, to her most loyal, leal And right devoted subjects, greeting sends Proclaiming, in the absence of the King, Her royal presence 108 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT [Voice of Herald fails abruptly utterly. A breathless hush falls sudden on the court. A sense oppressive ominous affects the throng. Weird music heard of unseen instruments. ,] HERALD. [Huskily striving to be heard.'} Hist, ho! Ay, ay! Ay, ay! Her majesty, The All-Glorious and Ever-Gracious Queen, Crestillomeem [ The Queen gasps, and clutches at Herald, mutely signing him to silence, her staring eyes fixed on a shadowy figure, mistily developing before her into wraith-like form and likeness of the Tune-Fool, SPRAIVOLL. The shape evidently invisible and voiceless to all senses but the Queen's wavers vaporishly to and fro before her, moaning and crooning in infinitely sweet-sad minor cadences a mystic song.~\ 109 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT WRAITH-SONG OF SPRAIVOLL, I will not hear the dying word Of any friend, nor stroke the wing Of any little wounded bird. . . . Love is the deadest thing! I wist not if I see the smile Of prince or wight, in court or lane. / only know that afterwhile He will not smile again. The summer blossom, at my feet Swims backward, drowning in the grass. I will not stay to name it sweet Sink out! and let me pass! I have no mind to feel the touch Of gentle hands on brow and hair. The lack of this once pained me much, And so I have a care. 110 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Dead 'weeds, and husky-rustling leaves That beat the dead boughs where ye cling, And old dead nests beneath the eaves Love is the deadest thing! 'Ah! once I fared not all alone; And once no matter, rain or snow! The stars of summer ever shone Because I loved him so! With always tremblings in his hands, And always blushes unaware, And always ripples down the strands Of his long yellow hair. I needs must weep a little space, Remembering his laughing eyes And curving lip, and lifted face Of rapture and surprise. Ill THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT O joy is dead in every part, And life and hope; and so I sing: In all the graveyard of my heart Love is the deadest thing/ [With dying away of song, apparition of SPRAIVOLL slowly vanishes, CRESTILLOMEEM turns dazedly to throng, and with labored effort strives to reassume imperious mien. Signs for merl and tremulously drains goblet sinks back in throne with feigned complacency, mutely waving Herald to proceed.] HERALD. [Mechanically.] Hist, ho! Ay, ay! Ay, ay! Her Majesty, The All-Glorious and Ever-Gracious Queen, Crestillomeem, to her most loyal, leal And right devoted subjects, greeting sends Proclaiming, in the absence of the King, Her royal presence, as by him empowered 112 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT To sit and occupy, maintain and hold, And therefrom rule the Throne, in sovereign state, And work the royal will [Confusion.] Hist, ho! Ay, ay! Ay, ay! And be it known, the King, in view Of his approaching dissolution [Sensation among Counsellors, etc., within, and wild tumult without and cries "Long live the King!" and "Treason!" "Intrigue!" "Sorcery!" CRESTILLO- MEEM, in suppressed ire, waving silence, and Herald striving to be heard.~\ HERALD. Hist, ho! Ay, ay! Ay, ay! The King, in view Of his approaching dissolution, hath Decreed this instrument this royal scroll [Unrolling and displaying scroll .] With royal seal thereunto set by Krung's Most sacred act and sign 113 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT [General sensation within, and growing tumult without, with wrangling cries of "Plot!" "Treason!" "Con spiracy!" and "Down with the Queen !" "Down with the usurper!" "Down with the Sorceress!"] CRESTILLOMEEM. [Wildly.'] Who dares to cry "Conspiracy!" Bring me the traitor- knave! [Growing confusion without sound of rioting. Voice, "Let me be taken! Let me be taken!" Enter Guards, dragging JUCKLET forward, wild-eyed and hysterical the Queen's gaze fastened on him wonderingly.] CRESTILLOMEEM. [To Guards.] Why bring ye Jucklet hither in this wise? 114 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT GUARD. O Queen, 'tis he who cries "Conspiracy!" And who incites the mob without with cries Of "Plot!" and "Treason!" CRESTILLOMEEM. [Starting.] Ha! Can this be true? I'll not believe it! Jucklet is my fool, But not so vast a fool that he would tempt His gracious Sovereign's ire. [To Guards.] Let him be freed! [Then to JUCKLET, with mock service.] Stand hither, O my Fool! JUCKLET. [To Queen.] What! I, thy fool? Ho! ho! Thy fool? ho! ho! Why, thou art mine! [Confusion cries of ft Strike down the traitor!" JUCK- LET wrenching himself from grasp of officers.] 115 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Back, all of ye! I have not waded hell That I should fear your puny enmity! Here will I give ye proof of all I say! [Presses toward throne, wedging his opposers left and right CRESTILLOMEEM sits as though stricken speechless pallid, waving him back JlJCKLET, fairly fronting her, with folded arms then to throng continues.] Lo! do I here defy her to lift up Her voice and say that Jucklet speaks a lie. [At sign of Queen, officers, unperceived by JUCKLET, close warily behind himJ] And, further I pronounce the document That craven Herald there holds in his hand A forgery a trick and dare the Queen, Here in my listening presence, to command Its further utterance! 116 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT CRESTILLOMEEM. [Wildly rising.] Hold, hireling! Fool! The Queen thou dost in thy mad boasts insult Shall utter first thy doom! [JUCKLET, seized from behind by Guards, is hurled face upward on the dais at her feet, while a minion, with drawn sword pressed close against his breast, stands over him.~\ Ere we proceed With graver matters, let this demon-knave Be sent back home to hell. [With awful stress of ire, form quivering, eyes glittering and features twitched and ashen.] Give me the sword, The insult hath been mine so even shall The vengeance be ! 117 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT [As CRESTILLOMEEM seizes sword and bends forward to strike, JUCKLET, with superhuman effort, frees his hand, and, with a sudden motion and an incoherent muttering, flings object in his assailant's face, CRESTILLOMEEM staggers backward, dropping sword, and, with arms tossed aloft, shrieks, totters and falls prone upon the pave. In confusion following JUCK- LET mysteriously vanishes; and as the bewildered Courtiers lift the fallen Queen, a clear, piercing voice of thrilling sweetness is heard singing.~\ VOICE. The pride of noon must wither soon The dusk of death must fall ; Yet out of darkest night the moon Shall blossom over all! THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT [For an instant a dense cloud envelops empty throne then gradually lifts, discovering therein KRUNG seated, in royal panoply and state, with JUCKLET in act of presenting sceptre to him. Blare of trumpets, and chorus of Courtiers, Ministers, Heralds, etc.] CHORUS. All hail! Long live the King! KRUNG. [ To throng, with grave salutation.] Through ^o's own great providence, and through The intervention of an angel whom I long had deemed forever lost to me, Once more your favored Sovereign, do I greet And tender ye my blessing, O most good And faith-abiding subjects of my realm! In common, too, with your long-suffering King, Have ye long suffered, blamelessly as he: Now, therefore, know ye all what, until late, 119 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT He knew not of himself, and with him share The rapturous assurance that is his, That, for all time to come, are we restored To the old glory and most regal pride And opulence and splendor of our realm. [Turning with pained features to the strangely stricken Queen.] There have been, as ye needs must know, strange spells And wicked sorceries at work within The very dais-boundaries of the Throne. Lo! then, behold your harrier and mine, And with me grieve for the self-ruined Queen Who grovels at my feet, blind, speechless, and So stricken with a curse herself designed Should light upon Hope's fairest minister. [Motions attendants, who lead away CRESTILLOMEEM the King gazing after her, overmastered with stress of his emotions. He leans heavily on throne, as 120 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT though oblivious to all surroundings, and, shaping into speech his varying thought, as in a trance, speaks as though 'witless of both utterance and auditor^] '< I loved her. Why? I never knew. Perhaps Because her face was fair; perhaps because Her eyes were blue and wore a weary air; Perhaps . . . perhaps because her limpid face Was eddied with a restless tide, wherein The dimples found no place to anchor and Abide: perhaps because her tresses beat A froth of gold about her throat, and poured In splendor to the feet that ever seemed Afloat. Perhaps because of that wild way Her sudden laughter overleapt propriety; Or who will say? perhaps the way she wept. Ho! have ye seen the swollen heart of summer Tempest, o'er the plain, with throbs of thunder Burst apart and drench the earth with rain? She Wept like that. And to recall, with one wild glance 121 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Of memory, our last love-parting tears And all. ... It thrills and maddens me! And yet My dreams will hold her, flushed from lifted brow To finger-tips, with passion's ripest kisses Crushed and mangled on her lips. . . . O woman! while Your face was fair, and heart was pure, and lips Were true, and hope as golden as your hair, I should have strangled you! [As KRUNO, ceasing to speak, piteously lifts his face, SPRAIVOLL all suddenly appears, in space left vacant by the Queen, and, kneeling, kisses the King's hand. He bends in tenderness, kissing her brow then lifts and seats her at his side. Speaks then to throng.] Good Subjects Lords: Behold in this sweet woman here my child Whom, years agone, the cold, despicable Crestillomeem by baleful, wicked arts And grewsome spells and fearsome witcheries 122 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT Did spirit off to some strange otherland Where, happily, a Wunkland Princess found Her, and undid the spell by sorcery More potent ay, Divine, since it works naught But good the gift of JEo, to right wrong. This magic dower the Wunkland Princess hath Enlisted in our restoration here, In secret service, till this joyful hour Of our complete deliverance. Even thus. Lo, let the peerless Princess now appear! [He lifts sceptre, and a gust of melody, divinely beautiful, sweeps through the court. The star above the throne loosens and drops slowly downward, bursting like a bubble on the sceptre-tip, and, issuing therefrom, AMPHINE and DWAINIE, hand in hand, kneel at the feet of KRUNG, who bends above them with his bless ing, while JUCKLET capers wildly round the group.~\ 123 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT JUCKLET. Ho! ho! but I could shriek for very joy! And though my recent rival, fair Amphine, Doth even now bend o'er a blossom, I, Besprit me! have no lingering desire To meddle with it, though with but one eye I slept the while she backward walked around Me in the garden. [AMPHINE dubiously smiles JUCKLET blinks and leers and DWAINIE bites her finger.~\ KRUNG. Peace! good Jucklet! Peace! For this is not a time for any jest- Though the old order of our realm hath been Restored, and though restored my very life Though I have found a daughter, I have lost A son for Dwainie, with her sorcery, Will, on the morrow, carry him away. Tis j?Eo's largess, as our love is His, And our abiding trust and gratefulness. CURTAIN. 124 sfl ^! >7 i( DATE DUE JAN 3 1970 JAN 5 1970 5 OAYLORD PRINTED IN U^S. A. UC SOUTHERN II III!! AA OG