^ P^W^^>5'W ' ^''''^^ J 
 

 
 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 University of California. 
 
 Class H-~j%i 
 
 
 
 
 
MONA 
 
MONA 
 
 An Opera in Three Acts 
 
 The Poem by 
 BRIAN HOOKER 
 
 The Music by 
 HORATIO PARKER 
 
 )» ) •> ■^ 
 
 New York 
 Dodd, Mead and Company 
 1911 
 
Copyright, igii 
 By Brian Hooker 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Published September^ lau 
 
 C < • 9 C « 
 
ARGUMENT 
 
 In the days of the Roman rule in Britain, 
 Quintus, the son of the Roman Governor by a 
 British captive, has grown up as one of his 
 mother's people, known to them as Gwynn; has 
 won place and power among them as a Bard, 
 making their peace with Rome; and is to wed 
 Mona, the foster-child of Enya and Arth and 
 last of the blood of Boadicea. But a great re- 
 bellion has brewed in Britain under Caradoc, their 
 chief Bard and Gloom, the Druid, foster-brother 
 of Mona, She by birthright and by old signs 
 and prophecies is foretold their leader; and 
 thereto she has been bred up hating Rome and 
 dreaming of great deeds. This Gwynn with- 
 stands in vain ; and lest he lose Mona and all his 
 power, is driven to swear fellowship in their con- 
 spiracy. Even so, for urging peace he is dis- 
 owned and cast off by them and by her. 
 
 Nevertheless, he follows her as she journeys 
 V 
 
 223131 
 
ARGUMENT 
 
 about the land arousing revolt; holding back the 
 Roman garrisons from seizing her, and secretly; 
 saving her life and the life of the rebellion many 
 times. For this he is blamed by The Governor, 
 his father; but answers that through Mona he 
 will yet keep the tribes from war. The Gov- 
 ernor lays all upon him, promising to spare the 
 Britons if they bide harmless, but if they strike, 
 to crush them without mercy. Gwynn there- 
 fore, meeting Mona upon the eve of the battle, 
 so moves her love for him that she is from then 
 utterly his own. And in that triumph he begins 
 to tell her of his plans for peace. But she, not 
 hearing him out, and barely understanding that 
 he is a Roman, cries for help and calls in the 
 Britons upon him. Yet even so she will not 
 betray him, and lies to save his life. They make 
 him prisoner, and led by Mona and the Bards, 
 rush forth against the Roman town. 
 
 The fight is crushed. Arth falls, and Gloom- 
 is hurt to death saving Mona against her will. 
 Gwynn, escaping in the turmoil of defeat, comes 
 upon them and tries to stay further harm, telling 
 
 VI 
 
ARGUMENT 
 
 ^Mona of his parentage and beseeching her aid. 
 But she, having taken him for a traitor, takes 
 him now for a liar; and deeming all their woe 
 his doing and her fault for having saved his life, 
 she slays him with her own hand. Then pres- 
 ently come The Governor and his soldiers; and 
 Monaj before she is led away captive, learns how 
 Gwynn spoke the truth, and how by yielding up 
 her high deeds womanly for love's sake she might 
 have compassed all her endeavor. 
 
 Vll 
 
THE PERSONS 
 
 MoNA, — princess of Britain. 
 
 Enya, — her foster-mother. 
 
 Arth, — husband of Enya; a British tribesman. 
 
 Gloom, — their son ; a Druid. 
 
 NiAL, — a changeling. 
 
 Caradoc, — the chief Bard of Britain. 
 
 The Roman Governor of Britain. 
 
 QuiNTus, — his son; known among the Britons 
 
 as GWYNN. 
 
 Roman soldiers; Britons, both men and women. 
 
 The Place is Southwestern Britain; The 
 Time is about the end of the first century a.d., 
 during the earlier years of the Roman occupa- 
 tion. The story, however, is not historical, but 
 wholly fictitious; nor has any attempt been made 
 to secure historical or archaeological precision at 
 the expense of human vividness. 
 
ACT THE FIRST 
 
 Jrth's Hut. 
 Morning in Midsummer, 
 
ACT I 
 
 The scene represents Arth's hut in the 
 forests of southwestern Britain: a 
 rough, sombre interior, so arranged as 
 to appear smaller than the actual di- 
 mensions of the stage. Walls and 
 roof are of unhewn logs; the floor is 
 of earth, strewn with rushes and the 
 skins of beasts. Other skins and vari- 
 ous clumsy implements hang upon the 
 walls and from {he rafters; but there 
 are no warlike weapons to be seen. 
 The rear wall {which is the front of 
 the hut) slants up stage from * right 
 to left, so that the left side of the set 
 
 * Right and Left mean throughout the right and 
 left of a person on the stage, facing the audience; 
 Above and Beloiv mean away from and toward the 
 footlights. 
 
MONA 
 
 is considerably deeper than the right, 
 and the left wall clearly visible to the 
 audience. Rather * below the centre 
 of this left wall is a large hearth of 
 rough stones, on which a fire is dying 
 down to flickering flames and red 
 embers; the faint wreaths of smoke 
 from it rising through an opening 
 in the roof overhead. Midway 
 along the rear wall is a large door- 
 way, framed with axe-hewn timbers; 
 and on the lintel across the top of 
 this doorway appears the Sign of the 
 Unspeakable Name /\\ burned 
 deeply into the wood, and large 
 enough to be clearly seen, indicating 
 that a Druid has his dwelling here. 
 Curtains of skins, drawn back from 
 the doorway, show the sunlit sum- 
 mer forest without; the light from 
 which, pouring inward through the 
 
 *See note on page i. 
 
 2 
 
MONA 
 
 doorway, makes a moving brightness 
 down the centre of the stage. The 
 right wall is a clay-and-osier partition, 
 pierced near its upper end by a smaller 
 doorway covered with a skin curtain, 
 which leads into a dark inner room. 
 A rude oaken bench stands diagonally 
 above and to the right of the fireplace; 
 bunks or settles are built out from the 
 rear wall on either side of the door 
 and from the right wall below the 
 doorway there. To the left of this 
 last, and as far down as possible, is a 
 clumsy table with benches above and 
 below it; and to the left of this again, 
 at the edge of the lighted space, a low 
 oaken stool. 
 
 The light appears to come wholly 
 from the fire and through the door^ 
 way from the forest without; so that, 
 although the whole stage is light 
 enough to be clearly seen, and the cen- 
 3 
 
MONA 
 
 tral portion light enough to distinguish 
 facial expression, the general effect is 
 that of gloom and shadow; deepening 
 around the walls, reddened by the 
 glow of the fire to the left, and con^ 
 trasting with the brilliant sunshine of 
 the green forest outside. 
 As the curtain rises, MoNA is sitting on 
 the stool, bent forward and gazing 
 across into the fire, her white profile, 
 the flame of coppery hair that falls 
 hack along her shoulders, and the gold 
 rings about her brow and right arm 
 thrown into relief against the pale 
 grey of her loose robe, Gwynn, in 
 the green robes of an Ovate, or 
 scholar-bard, stands in the centre of 
 the stage, a little above her. NiAL, 
 in ragged deerskins with a wreath of 
 flowers around his head, lies half 
 asleep upon a bearskin before the fire, 
 his hack toward them and his head up 
 4 
 
MONA 
 
 stage. Above the table, Enya, in 
 dull brown, is busy removing horns, 
 -platters, etc., from the table to the 
 inner room and to their places upon 
 the wall. This action continues for 
 some minutes; but at the curtain-rise 
 she is motionless by the rear wall, her 
 hack to the audience. So that MoNA 
 and GwYNN, both by their positions 
 in the light and by the coloring of 
 their costumes, are made emphatic in 
 the centre of the opening picture. 
 
 GwYNN 
 
 Not long now, till the end ! 
 
 MoNA 
 
 Until the end. . . 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Not long until the end of all my doubt, 
 Not long until the end of all thy fear — 
 5 
 
MONA 
 
 Kisses half-willing, half-reluctant arms, 
 And eyes that shirk their promise. I have 
 
 made peace, 
 And brought down rest over this angry 
 
 land 
 Whose trouble was thy trouble . . . Now 
 
 I make 
 Mine own all I have known so long for 
 
 mine, 
 All thy dear heart hath given. 
 
 MONA 
 
 [{still without moving) 
 
 Have I all 
 
 To give thee, Gwynn ? 
 
 [Enya has come down to the table; 
 she pauses there, watching MoNA 
 closely, 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 Still the old fear 1 
 6 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 (with more animation y turning to him) 
 
 Not fear . . . 
 
 Only . . . these many days I have not 
 heard 
 
 Thy voice, nor seen thine eyes . . . and 
 the old dreams 
 
 Press closer, and thy face fades, lost among 
 
 A sea of raging faces, and a forest 
 
 Of white swords; and thy voice, murmur- 
 ing joy, 
 
 Blows down a wind of war-cries . . . 
 What hath held thee 
 
 So long and far away? 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Only the need 
 Of making all things ready for our love. 
 
 Enya 
 
 {to GwYNN, sharply) 
 
 Hast thou made the bride ready to be won? 
 
 7 
 
MONA 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 It is this house : there Is a shadow here. 
 
 MONA 
 
 {touching her breastj 
 
 There is a shadow here, Gwynn. 
 
 [Enya starts, and moves forward as 
 if about to speak; hut as Gwynn 
 goes on without noticing, she re- 
 strains herself. 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 Now I build 
 A house for us twain In the forest here, 
 Where sunlights laugh through moving 
 
 leaves all day, 
 And the sweet blossoms brighten ; where all 
 
 night 
 Earth breathes joy and the moon makes 
 
 mystery 
 Of silvern glamour — 
 8 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 (heavily and sadly) 
 
 Thou shalt never build 
 That house, Gwynn. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 What new change — ? 
 
 Enya 
 
 Trouble her not — 
 There is more in her than thy love can 
 know. 
 
 Gwynn 
 Therefore I love her. 
 
 MONA 
 
 Dear, I am not changed — 
 That IS our trouble, that I cannot change — 
 I cannot be like other women, loved 
 And loving, happy. I was never so ; 
 Only, because of thy dear looks, I dreamed 
 Of love and thee a little — being young 
 9 
 
MONA 
 
 And thrilled with May, a woman, feeling 
 
 hands 
 Of little children touch me in the daric, 
 Unborn, crying to me to mother them. . . 
 I dreamed of them and thee. Waking, I 
 
 know 
 That I am set apart. 
 
 l^She rises, and comes down a step, 
 NiAL st'irSy and turns , half raising 
 himself to watch them, 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 What fancy — 
 
 MoNA 
 
 Dear, 
 
 No fancy. Look — 
 
 \^he lays her hand upon the bosom of 
 her gown, as if to draw it away 
 from her throat. Enya springs 
 forward in violent protest. 
 
 ID 
 
MONA 
 
 Enya 
 Thou shalt not show him 1 No I 
 
 MONA 
 
 Look! 
 
 \_She draws the dress from her breast, 
 and shows there the sign /\\ 
 red against the white skin like a 
 brand or a birthmark. Enya 
 wrings her hands. Gwynn 
 starts back to the left side of the 
 lighted space, so that the centre 
 of the stage, up to the doorway, 
 is left open. NiAL is on his 
 feet, curious and wondering. 
 All glance instinctively from 
 MoNA to the mark above the 
 door. 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 The Name I 
 
 II 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 God's great Name. 
 
 Enya 
 
 '(^to GwynnX 
 
 Better for thee 
 Not to have known. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 The Name that none may speak . . « 
 Mona, what means this? 
 
 MONA 
 
 I was born therewith. 
 I cannot read its meaning ; but I know 
 Some great adventure waits for me, since 
 
 God 
 Hath set His seal upon me. How shall I 
 Tarry for love? 
 
 NiAL 
 [(with a child^s curiosityy 
 
 I cannot understand . . ^ 
 What IS this great thing Mona has to do 
 
 12 
 
MONA 
 
 That hinders loving? Does God write his 
 
 name 
 On them that shall not love? I have It 
 
 not . . . 
 I cannot love, because I have no soul. 
 
 MONA 
 I dare not love until my soul is free. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Thou art free! How should this great 
 
 task divide 
 Thy fate and mine asunder? Being one 
 We shall be stronger for all good. . . 
 
 Dear love, 
 What hinders the fulfilment of our dream? 
 
 MONA 
 
 I have had other dreams. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Love, thou hast been 
 Alone and listless, and the warm youth pent 
 13 
 
MONA 
 
 Within thee, frustrate, like new wine that 
 
 works 
 Close-covered, vapors up these visions. 
 
 Come 
 With me, take life, and leave them ! Come 
 
 with me 
 Out of the shadows, out of the aimless days 
 And empty nights — find thou humanity 
 And God shall find thee greatness ! 
 
 MONA 
 
 Listen, Gwynn — 
 And thou. Mother, in dream-lore deeply 
 
 wise — 
 Three nights together have I dreamed this 
 dream : 
 
 [NiAL has already settled back, un- 
 comprehending, in his place by 
 the fire; Enya seats herself upon 
 the bench below the table, and 
 Gwynn, a little later, on the 
 right end of the bench above the 
 14 
 
MONA 
 
 fire. Only MoNA is left stand- 
 ing and within the lighted space. 
 I walked upon a windy beach between 
 Dark forest and dim sea. Low-swollen 
 
 clouds, 
 Heavy with storm, gloomed overhead and 
 
 hung 
 Bellying against the tree-tops. Close 
 
 ashore 
 Towered one huge wave, curving over me 
 As a serpent curves to strike, crested with 
 
 cloud 
 And foam, the hollow gulf beneath alive 
 With tremulous lights and angry glints of 
 
 green. 
 High overhead looming: so that I seemed 
 To walk in a long cavern roofed with cloud 
 And walled with foam and forest. And I 
 
 bare 
 Upon my breast a naked sword, close held 
 As a mother holds her child. So when 
 
 the surge 
 
 15 
 
MONA 
 
 Poised to plunge down upon me, I thrust 
 
 forth 
 The sword, shaking it seaward, and the sea 
 
 Bent backward and forebore. Meseemed 
 one stood 
 
 Beside me, veiled in a white shroud, whose 
 face 
 
 I could not see, that strove to snatch away 
 
 My sword. Therefore I smote and slew 
 him. Then 
 
 The surge plunged, and the clouds burst, 
 and the trees 
 
 Fell, thunder-rent, and whelmed me. And 
 I woke 
 
 Trembling, and seeming still to see the 
 sword 
 
 And the grim cloud and the green surge. 
 And now 
 
 Three nights together have I dreamed this 
 dream. 
 
 i6 
 
MONA 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 (on his feet, but still in the shadow) 
 
 And the dream thrice beholden prophe- 
 sies ! — 
 I wonder ... 
 
 [He breaks off, pondering, MoNA 
 turns to Enya. 
 
 MONA 
 
 Mother . . ? 
 
 Enya 
 
 Dreaming of the sea 
 Foretells great happenings; dreaming of a 
 
 sword, 
 Struggle . . . but then the forest, and the 
 
 cloud, 
 And the white figure with no face . . . 
 
 Nay, child, 
 I cannot tell. I cannot read this dream. 
 17 
 
MONA 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 God mocks us with a future half fore- 
 known. 
 
 MONA 
 
 {dropping hack into her seat, and brooding 
 there, her face resting upon her hands) 
 
 Nial, dost thou never dream ? 
 
 NiAL 
 
 Always, I think — 
 Or never. Night by night, and day by 
 
 day . . . 
 It must be all true, or else all a dream. 
 
 MONA 
 
 {still pondering) 
 
 I alone between surge and forest . . . 
 
 Gwynn, 
 What if the sea be — Rome ! 
 i8 
 
MONA 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 (startled and uneasy) 
 Rome? — 
 
 MoNA 
 
 The black flood 
 That whelms our miserable land 1 
 
 \_Js GwYNN ^5 about to protest, 
 Arth strides in at the central 
 doorway — a lean, powerful old 
 man with a bristle of grey hair 
 and beard; bare-armed and bare- 
 kneed, clad roughly in skins. 
 He advances to the centre of the 
 stage, and hurls a short Roman 
 sword, unsheathed, at Mona's 
 feet. 
 
 Arth 
 
 Here, child, 
 I bring thee a child's plaything ! 
 
 [The women have risen in surprise, 
 19 
 
MONA 
 
 and NiAL also is upon his feet, 
 peering curiously at the sword, 
 GwYNN remains up left, in the 
 shadow, 
 
 MONA 
 
 Father I 
 
 Enya 
 
 Arth . . . 
 
 [MONA has picked up the sword and 
 
 is examining it. Suddenly she 
 
 raises a drawn face of dreadful 
 
 wonder, 
 
 MONA 
 It is the sword I dreamed of in my dream I 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 The sword of Rome . . ! 
 
 MONA 
 
 Father, whence came this ? 
 20 
 
MONA 
 
 Arth 
 
 (his primness in sharp contrast with her 
 
 wonder) 
 
 One 
 That was a Roman soldier gave it me 
 Yonder . . . These Romans are a weakly 
 breed I 
 
 Enya 
 Thou art a swordless man — it is unlawful 
 For thee to fight, or to bear weapons . . . 
 
 Arth 
 
 Bah! 
 I had no weapon — 
 
 [He makes the action of strangling an 
 enemy. 
 
 Only these bare hands 
 Of an old man. 
 
 Enya 
 
 Blood ! Blood ! Ever more blood ! 
 
 21 
 
MONA 
 
 Arth 
 {disregarding her terror, and looking lit- 
 erally at his hands) 
 Only a little, bitten from his lips 
 In dying. 
 
 Enya 
 
 Thou hast roused the wolf I Oh, now 
 We shall endure vengeance! Now, when 
 
 our sleep 
 Was safe, and our days free — 
 
 Arth 
 Free I Hear the woman I 
 Ay, free like dogs, free to the lash and the 
 
 chain, 
 Licking the Wolf's feet lest we die •— new 
 
 stripes 
 Over old scars, one shame alike to sting 
 Surrender and rebellion, — tribute wrung 
 Out of dry hunger, swords taken away 
 
 22 
 
MONA 
 
 From free hands, our shrines desolate, our 
 
 Bards 
 Forbidden worship, our kings dead, our 
 
 women 
 Shared with our lords — all men with 
 
 blood in them 
 Hating the Wolf anew with each new day, 
 Eating and drinking hatred! 
 
 [GwYNN has listened with growin^^ 
 displeasure, sharing neither 
 Enya's terror nor Arth's rage. 
 He now comes down, facing the 
 furious old man with calm au- 
 thority. 
 
 GwYNN 
 
 Thou art a fool, 
 Arth. Blood will follow this. 
 
 Arth 
 {noticing him for the first time, scornfully) 
 Gwynn ... the man of peace I 
 What dost thou here? 
 23 
 
MONA 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 What I have ever done — 
 Guarded this house from trouble. Thou 
 
 hast broke 
 The peace, wantonly slain a Roman. 
 
 Fool, 
 What hope hath Britain save In Rome's 
 
 goodwill ? 
 
 Arth 
 Rome's goodwill! The embrace of the 
 
 soft scourge I 
 Kisses of the kindly spur I A fire's friend- 
 ship, 
 A wolf's love I 
 
 [MoNA has been standing bright-eyed, 
 the sword unconsciously clasped 
 across her bosom, as a mother, 
 holds her child. As Arth 
 -finishes, she springs forward in 
 a frenzy before the others, waV" 
 24 
 
MONA 
 
 ing the sword at arm^s length, 
 and shouting. 
 
 MONA 
 Britam, old Britain 1 Ruin to Rome ! 
 
 Enya 
 {catching the infection, with shrill fury\ 
 Ruin to Rome! 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Be still, women 1 
 [Their hysteria wilts before his con- 
 fidence. He turns, facing Arth, 
 and pointing steadily to the Sign 
 above the doorway. 
 
 By that Sign, 
 I bid thee, peace. Now . . . thou hast 
 
 slain a man — 
 Go bury him. 
 
 [Their eyes fight. Arth bows his 
 head. 
 
 25 
 
MONA 
 
 Arth 
 I will go bury him. 
 
 [He goes out, slowly, into the forest, 
 MoNA crosses to Gwynn, and 
 slides her left arm about his neck, 
 the sword hanging loose in her 
 right hand. 
 
 MONA 
 
 Thou art a man, Gwynn. . . 
 
 NiAL 
 
 I cannot understand — 
 .What had he done, the Roman, wherefore 
 
 Arth 
 Should slay him? 
 
 MONA 
 
 ^{turning sharply) 
 
 Robbed us of our freedom. 
 26 
 
MONA 
 
 NiAL 
 
 Nay, 
 Are we not free to breathe sweet breath, 
 
 and sing 
 Under the sun, and laugh beside the fire, 
 And wonder at the world? 
 
 MONA 
 
 (to GwYNN, examining the initials ^ S. P. 
 
 Q. R. upon the hilt of the sword) 
 
 What mean these runes 
 Here graven? 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Senate and Roman People. 
 
 MONA 
 
 {swinging the sword) 
 
 See 
 How light It is I Even I have strength 
 enough 
 
 27 
 
MONA 
 
 To wield this. How can such women's 
 
 weapons meet 
 The long sword and the British axe? 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Not so — 
 IHe takes the weapon from her, and 
 illustrates his words with the easy 
 precision of a trained man: at 
 frst quietly, then with increasing 
 enthusiasm, until at the last he 
 is vividly possessed by his pa- 
 triotism, 
 Rome never strikes. . . Thus — thrusting 
 
 . . . The point kills 
 Quietly. . . The edge wastes power. 
 
 First the spears, 
 Hurled all together, bite and bend — then 
 
 down 
 Swings the long legion, every man In turn 
 Guarded and guarding, shield by shield, 
 and sword 
 
 28 
 
MONA 
 
 By sword, closing the ranks above the 
 slain — 
 
 The third line ready with new spears — 
 not men 
 
 But one steel wall of manhood — eagles 
 borne 
 
 Forward, and trumpets clamoring vic- 
 tory — 
 
 Men die; but the living legion marches on 
 
 Conquering. Romans perish — Rome 
 abides. 
 
 Drinking the virtue of her dead strong 
 sons. 
 
 Imperial, immortal! 
 
 Enya 
 
 {sourly, with half-suspiciony 
 
 Man of peace, 
 Thou knowest our enemies' warfare over- 
 well I 
 
 29 
 
MONA 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 I am a Bard. . . It is my work to 
 learn. . . 
 
 MONA 
 
 (eagerly) 
 Hast thou fought with them? 
 
 GwYNN 
 
 I have fought . . . with them — 
 Before I was a Bard, I fought with them. 
 
 MONA 
 
 To have stood at sword's point with the 
 
 very wolf . . 1 
 iTo have pierced flesh, and seen blood flow 
 
 ... to have slain 
 Romans • — ■ and now, to love Rome I 
 
 GVi^YNN 
 
 Now I love thee, 
 And dream of peace. 
 
 [MoNA turns listlessly away, and 
 30 
 
MONA 
 
 seats herself upon the stool, her 
 head in her hands. Enya is 
 above the table, and NiAL back 
 in his place by the fire, while 
 GwYNN Stands at the left of the 
 lighted space, above the fire: so 
 that the picture as well as the 
 mood of the opening scene are 
 reproduced. 
 
 MONA 
 
 I have had other dreams : 
 Fire, and a sound of battle, and a storm 
 Of hungry swords . . . our towns made 
 
 strong once more. 
 Our shrines made holy as of old. . . 
 
 \_She rises nervously, and paces to and 
 fro across the lower edge of the 
 light like a caged creature, hen 
 hands clasped over the mark on 
 her. breast, 
 31 
 
MONA 
 
 Great God, 
 What have I done with all this life of mine 
 To make life worthier? What have I 
 
 done — 
 What can I do? 
 
 NiAL 
 
 {innocently, with the air of having found 
 the answer) 
 Thou art very beautiful. 
 
 MONA 
 
 Beautiful! Will my beauty break the 
 
 chain ? 
 — If I might make thereof a charm, to 
 
 snare 
 The leader of our enemies — and then, 
 While he leaned down and loved me, strike 
 
 one stroke 
 Into his wolf-heart, and leave Britain 
 
 free. . . 
 I dream this ; who shall make it more than 
 
 dream? 
 
 32 
 
MONA 
 
 [GwYNN, Standing motionless with 
 the sword in his hand, has un- 
 consciously stiffened into atten- 
 tion, the sword held vertically at 
 his side, MoNA turns upon him 
 suddenly, 
 — Give me the sword. 
 
 GwYNN 
 
 Wherefore? 
 
 MONA 
 
 Give me the sword! 
 Thou art like a Roman soldier, standing 
 
 so — 
 It is mine. Give it me ! 
 
 \_She advances, and tries to take it 
 from him. He resists; then, see- 
 ing that she is in earnest, lets go. 
 Their position, at this instant, is 
 exactly that of the previous line: 
 " Thou art a man, Gwynn," on 
 33 
 
MONA 
 
 p, 26. But in snatching the 
 \sword, MoNA has drawn its edge 
 across Gwynn's hare right arm* 
 She starts back to his right, drop- 
 ping the sword, and catching his 
 right hand: so that Gwynn's 
 bleeding arm is outstretched in 
 the centre of the stage, Enya 
 and NiAL, at the same instant, 
 spring forward and down stage 
 to right and left, horrified at the 
 omen. All this happens at once 
 and in a moment, 
 
 Mona 
 
 — Gwynn I 
 [At the moment of her cry, Gloom 
 enters through the central door- 
 way, releasing the leather curtain 
 so that it falls behind him, cut- 
 ting of the sunlight. The stage 
 light darkens and reddens to fire- 
 34 
 
MONA 
 
 light; and all eyes are turned 
 upon Gloom standing motionless 
 before the doorway in the white 
 robes of a Druid, his arms 
 stretched outward and upward, 
 and his long white staff held ver- 
 tically in his right hand. His 
 black hair is crowned with oak- 
 leaves, and his black beard flows 
 down over his breast. After an 
 instant, he brings his arms down, 
 stretching them outward and 
 downward, the staff still held ver- 
 tically; then folds them inward 
 upon his breast, so that the staff, 
 held between his hands which are 
 clasped at his throat, forms with 
 his forearms the Sign of the 
 Unspeakable Name, Then he 
 comes down to Gwynn's left 
 and just below him; picks up the 
 sword, and looks from it to 
 35 
 
MONA 
 
 Gwynn's bleeding arm, speaking 
 with a solemn relish at once 
 prophetic and malicious. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 {as Gloom enters) 
 
 It IS naught, . . 
 
 Gloom 
 By that same blade it Is thy doom to die. 
 
 MONA 
 
 Gloom . . ! 
 
 GwYNN 
 
 {facing Gloom)' 
 I shall not be slain by prophecies, 
 Nor by ill-will. 
 
 {^Ignoring him, Gloom passes the 
 sword to MoNA, who takes it 
 mechanically, and speaks to 
 Enya. 
 
 36 
 
MONA 
 
 Gloom 
 Mother, take Mona hence. 
 Tell her. . . Thou knowest all she needs 
 to know. . . 
 
 [Js Enya and MONA go out by the 
 doorway to the right, Gwynn 
 steps back below the table; and 
 Gloom, crossing up to the cen- 
 tral door, draws back the curtain 
 and calls through. 
 Let the Bard enter, Father. 
 
 [Arth appears in the doorway, usher- 
 ing in Caradoc. He is very 
 old, with a skin like wrinkled 
 ivory, and hair and beard like 
 spun glass; his costume is simi- 
 lar to those of Gwynn and 
 Gloom, but deep blue in color. 
 All his movements are deliberate 
 and impressive; and he has an old 
 saint's air of dreamy optimism. 
 37 
 
MONA 
 
 The others hear themselves to* 
 ward him with reverence. He 
 stands a moment under the door- 
 way, going through the same rit- 
 ual as Gloom had done, hut with 
 greater dignity and meaning, 
 Arth and Gloom fall hack to 
 right and left of the door. 
 NiAL remains far to the left, he- 
 low the fireplace; he takes no 
 part in the ensuing scene, nor do 
 the others notice his presence 
 more than they would the pres- 
 ence of an animal, 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 '{as Caradoc enters) 
 
 Caradoc . . I 
 
 Caradoc 
 The peace of the Great Name upon this 
 
 house 
 And all that dwell therein I 
 38 
 
MONA 
 
 All 
 
 And with thee, peace. 
 
 Caradoc 
 (coming down to the centre of the stage) 
 Now let there be an oath between us. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Nay, 
 I swear no blind oaths. What does Cara- 
 doc 
 Here? What is this that Mona needs to 
 know? 
 
 [In answer, 'Caradoc throws hack 
 his gown. Gloom and Arth 
 do likewise, showing that each is 
 girt with a great sword. To- 
 gether the three blades are drawn 
 and held aloft, Caradoc's ver- 
 tically, the other two slanting in 
 toward its uplifted point, 
 39 
 
MONA 
 
 Caradoc 
 The peace is broken: we have blessed the 
 steel. 
 
 Gloom 
 (as the swords are sheathed again) 
 
 Thou shalt know all, being made one with 
 us. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 (bitterly) 
 This Is thy doing, Gloom. Thou hast un- 
 done 
 Britain, and all our labor. 
 
 Arth 
 
 Bah 1 He loves 
 Rome overwell, prating of peace, peace, 
 
 peace — 
 Put thou no trust In him. ' 
 
 40 
 
MONA 
 
 Gloom 
 
 ( triumphantly y 
 
 If a man swear 
 
 An oath, and bind his honor with a bond, 
 He shall not break his word. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Have we not sworn 
 An oath to keep the peace of the Great 
 
 Name? 
 I swear no oath to drown this land in war. 
 
 Caradoc 
 
 There is no peace that is not won by war. 
 
 [GwYNN still hesitates. He must 
 
 either swear disloyalty to Rome, 
 
 or give up Mona, his influence 
 
 €imong the Britons, and perhaps 
 
 his life. To the others, of 
 
 course, he appears merely driven 
 
 from his known position as a 
 
 peacemaker ; and in this Gloom 
 
 41 
 
MONA 
 
 takes pleasure. After a moment 
 Caradoc adds gravely: 
 Being a Bard, thou art made one with us. 
 
 Arth 
 
 Being a Briton, thou art one with us ! 
 
 Gloom 
 Mona herself shall make thee one with us. 
 [GwYNN still wafers, and Arth's 
 temper gives way. 
 
 Arth 
 Enough I Art thou a Roman? 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 {howing his head) 
 
 I will swear. 
 
 Caradoc 
 Then let there be an oath between us. 
 
 l^He drives his staff into the fire, caus- 
 ing it to blaze up. Then cere- 
 monially draws forth a burning 
 42 
 
MONA 
 
 brand, which he elevates before 
 the sign on the lintel, saying: 
 
 Now, 
 By the three circles round the Oak, whose 
 
 names 
 Are Death and Life and Godhead . . . 
 
 by the signs 
 Of Earth and Air and Fire . . ; and by 
 
 the power 
 Of the Great Name, . . . which made and 
 
 maketh all. . . 
 Our hearts are sealed forever to this trust ; 
 Our lips are sealed until the work be done. 
 [At the pauses, he presents the brand 
 in turn to Gloom, Arth, and 
 Gwynn; each touches the fire, 
 and carries his hand to breast 
 and lips; then Caradoc breaks 
 the brand in three, laying one 
 fragment upon the earth, throw- 
 ing another into the air, and re- 
 turning the third to the fire. 
 43 
 
MONA 
 
 All 
 By the Great Name ; By Earth and Air and 
 Fire. 
 
 Caradoc 
 The Gorsedd is made ready. 
 
 IHe seats himself upon the bench 
 above the pre, Arth and Gloom 
 upon those to right and left of 
 the doorway. Gwynn remains 
 standing, near the table. 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 Caradoc, 
 Thou art old, having seen generations, wise 
 With love and sight and sorrow. Thou 
 
 hast seen 
 Boadicea, and the bloody fall 
 Of that great uprising, and many wars 
 Since then, lesser but not less vain. Say 
 
 thou 
 How Britain shall fight Rome I 
 44 
 
MONA 
 
 Caradoc 
 
 Thou shalt know all — • 
 It is true, Gwynn, that all our wars were 
 
 vain. 
 They were but partial. Rome is Rome. 
 
 Till now 
 Britain was never Britain. Here a tribe 
 And there a province fought and fell. 
 
 Even she, 
 The Old Queen, led only West Britain. 
 
 Now, 
 Mount, shore, and plain, wild wood and 
 
 wanton town, 
 Rise every man together, on one day. 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 It is no matter. Say that Britain means 
 Britain for once — Rome is the world. 
 
 Besides, 
 What surety have ye that all tribes will rise 
 Together? This has all failed many 
 
 times ! 
 
 45 
 
MONA 
 
 Some will rise, others wait to learn how 
 
 those 
 Fare, and so all perish. Rome is Rome, 
 
 one, 
 Unconquerable, eternal! 
 
 Arth 
 
 Bah ! That fear 
 Crawls in our young men's blood. They 
 
 have sucked it in 
 From weak, soft breasts. A Roman is a 
 
 man, 
 Boy, not a god. Are we men? 
 
 Caradoc 
 
 We are more : 
 We are the living will of the Great Name, 
 Foredoomed, ordained, prophesied. We 
 
 have found 
 That leader long foretold who shall stamp 
 
 down 
 The Wolf, and save Britain — that leader 
 sought 
 
 46 
 
MONA 
 
 Through many years and tears, whom all 
 
 shall trust 
 Even as a babe its mother, and obey 
 As a young maid her love. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 I have heard . . . but where 
 Shall ye bring up one man all will receive 
 For the one prophesied? Where learned 
 
 he war 
 And how to lead men? Who, but his own 
 
 folk 
 That knew his childhood shall say: 
 
 " What, our boy 
 The foretold hero?" And sneer, and 
 
 spread their scorn 
 Till many doubt? Where find ye such a 
 
 man? 
 
 Caradoc 
 
 No man. 
 
 47 
 
MONA 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 {logically triumphantj 
 What god, then? 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Nor no god. We found 
 A woman. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Woman. . ! 
 
 Gloom 
 (confirming with some pleasure Gwynn's 
 horrified anticipation) 
 Mona. 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 By God's name. 
 No ! Ye shall not make her your sacrifice ! 
 
 {to Arth) 
 Thine own child — - 
 
 Arth 
 
 Nay, no child of mine. 
 48 
 
MONA 
 
 Caradoc 
 
 Myself 
 Did bring her hither twenty years ago, 
 To be reared up in secret. She is the child 
 Of Arvirax and Gerna, very blood 
 Of the Old Queen, who, dying, told of her. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 She IS herself, were she the very Queen 
 Herself, reborn! Ye shall not blast her 
 
 joy 
 For a dream, and a dead woman's proph- 
 ecy, 
 And a fool's hasty blood-lust, and a war 
 Vain, lost before beginning, worthless if 
 
 won — 
 Ye shall not drown her in your surge of 
 blood! 
 
 \_He raises his arms in the Sign, turn- 
 ing toward the doorway, and 
 looking from Gloom to Cara- 
 doc. 
 
 49 
 
MONA 
 
 Is this the peace ye blessed this house 
 
 withal? 
 
 IThe others have risen. Caradoc 
 comes forward, facing him, his 
 staff held before his breast, 
 
 Caradoc 
 There is no peace that is not won by war. 
 [^Then as Gwynn is about to protest 
 further, he adds, pointing to the 
 doorway. 
 We are thine elders, Gwynn. Be silent 
 now. 
 
 [He nods to Arth, glancing toward 
 the door on the right; and NiAL, 
 obedient to Arth's gesture, goes 
 out through it. There is a short 
 pause. Then MoNA enters 
 alone, tall and pale, great-eyed 
 with inspiration; dressed, like 
 Gloom, in the white Druidic 
 Robes, and with the sword still 
 50 
 
MONA 
 
 in her hand. She comes for- 
 ward slowly, and kneels before 
 Caradoc in the centre of the 
 stage. Gwynn is to the right, 
 below the table, Arth above and 
 to the right, Gloom below and 
 to the left. 
 
 Caradoc 
 
 {laying hands upon her head, quietly) 
 
 The peace of the Great Name upon thee, 
 
 and the power 
 Dwell with thee. *. . 
 
 MONA 
 {rising, tense with exultation) 
 
 It Is all so wonderful. 
 I to fulfil old prophecies. . . 
 
 {glancing toward Arth)' 
 I not 
 Thy daughter, but a daughter of strange 
 
 names 
 In an old tale. . . 
 
 51 
 
MONA 
 
 I to save Britain . . . Strange 
 
 As birth. 
 
 Caradoc 
 
 Show me the sign, child. 
 
 [^She draws the robe away from her 
 
 breast. The stage picture is the 
 
 same, with different persons, as 
 
 when she first showed it to 
 
 GWYNN. 
 
 Twenty years 
 Past, I beheld that sign, and saved the child 
 For Britain. 
 
 MONA 
 Strange as love. . . 
 
 Caradoc 
 .With God*s great Name 
 Sealed — 
 
 MoNA 
 Strange as death. 
 52 
 
MONA 
 
 Caradoc 
 
 Hear now the words of the Bard I 
 
 (formally) 
 
 Boadlcea, dying, left her pledge 
 
 (For dying eyes look through the veils of 
 
 time) 
 That one sprung of her seed should lead 
 
 this land 
 In its great need against the Roman. Thee, 
 Last of her line, by that sign on thy 
 
 breast, 
 And by Bard's insight, I receive and de- 
 clare 
 For the one prophesied. Thee the Great 
 
 Name 
 Shall guide where many thousand fighting 
 
 men 
 Moulded under thy faith to one strong 
 
 arm, 
 Follow, to save Britain! 
 53 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 If I were sure . . . 
 
 [^She stands r'lgidy gazing before her 
 into infinity, as one who sees a 
 ^vision; her soul balancing be- 
 tween sainthood and humanity. 
 Arth, up right y looks on with 
 frowning impatience, and Cara- 
 DOC, further down and to the 
 left, patiently and with confi- 
 dence, GwYNN and Gloom, to 
 MoNA*s right and left and a lit- 
 tle below her, watch tensely for 
 the critical moment; it is they 
 who are fighting for her. 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Arc not thy dreams fulfilled of other 
 
 lives, — 
 Memorable of old wars ? 
 54 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 How couldst thou know? — 
 Surely my dreams remember! 
 {half to herself) 
 
 The sea, Rome. . . 
 
 The forest, Britain. . . The sword, 
 war. . I 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Remember 
 Also the veiled, white figure with no 
 face — 
 
 God mocks us with a future half fore- 
 known ! 
 
 {His tone softens, and he comes close 
 to her, taking her passive hand. 
 She looks past his eyes. 
 
 Thou art a woman, Mona. To be great. 
 First be a woman. 
 
 55 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 {leaning toward him a little ^ hut still not 
 meeting his eyes) 
 
 I have had other dreams, 
 Of mating and of motherhood — not great, 
 But very dear. . . 
 
 {still gently, hut hardening herself hy an 
 
 effort) 
 
 Ah, Gwynn, I cannot be 
 Only a woman ! 
 
 Gloom 
 {venomously, catching at his opportunity)^ 
 
 Nor a pretty toy 
 For lover's lips to lap — 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 {furiously, taking a step forward as if to 
 strike him) 
 
 Gloom ! — 
 56 
 
MONA 
 
 Arth 
 {sharply) 
 
 Enough words I 
 Dost thou accept thy task? 
 
 MONA 
 
 \waveringly^ almost in a whisper) 
 What shall I do . . ? 
 [The tide of inspiration flows over, 
 her. She throws herself erect, 
 seeming to grow physically larger 
 in her excitement, her face glo- 
 rious, her arms thrown outward 
 and upward, the sword shining 
 in her hand. Her words are no 
 longer a wail of hesitation, hut a 
 superb demand for use, 
 what shall i do? 
 
 Caradoc 
 The soul speaks ! Child and Queen, 
 Cornel 
 
 57 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 Yea, I cornel Let the ravens follow 
 
 me — 
 They shall be filled! Yea, let the wolves 
 
 howl I Fire, — 
 Fire, and a sound of battle, and the whole 
 Manhood of Britain raging down to hurl 
 The wolf-born Roman back into the sea ; — 
 Our towns made strong once more, our 
 
 wasted shrines 
 Made holy, Druid and Bard called forth 
 
 again 
 
 From lurking In forgotten dens, to fare 
 Once more In honor over a free land. 
 Singing and teaching freedom I 
 
 [She is beside herself, Gwynn 
 springs forward in an agony of 
 desperate authority, pinions her 
 arms, and by main force brings 
 her to face him at arm's length. 
 
 58 
 
MONA 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Mona I Come down 
 Out of that frenzy. Mona . . . Look at 
 
 me! 
 This Is I, Gwynn, a man, flesh and blood, 
 
 I 
 Whose lips and eyes thou lovest. . . 
 
 IThe fire fades out of her under his 
 eyes. She relaxes, and her head 
 droops. 
 
 Now I — I say, 
 Thou shalt not murder all we are, to feed 
 A fever and a folly. 
 
 [^He releases her, and steps hack. 
 
 Love or war — 
 Choose 1 
 
 Caradoc 
 
 {slowly and gravely) 
 
 Ay, choose well. 
 59 
 
MONA 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Vision or dream, that boy 
 Or Britain, lust or glory — 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Let her be ! 
 
 Thou art fain to madden her with words. 
 
 Gloom 
 
 And thou 
 Art fain to eat her soul for thy desire, 
 To keep her wholly for thy pleasure ; and 
 
 so, 
 Holding her merry body in thine arms. 
 To laugh at Britain I 
 
 [His profanation turns the struggle. 
 Under the sting of it, MoNA 
 leaps hack into her martyrdom* 
 GwYNN is beaten. 
 
 MONA 
 
 Britain, old Britain, Ho I 
 \^The others join in the cry. She 
 60 
 
MONA 
 
 turns upon GwYNN with hitter 
 finality. 
 
 I will not hear thy voice nor see thine eyes 
 
 For evermore I 
 
 [As GwYNN turns away from her to- 
 ward the door, Arth advances 
 upon him, with clutching hands. 
 GwYNN stops above centre, fac- 
 ing him. 
 
 Arth 
 Let me kill . . I 
 
 Caradoc 
 
 Nay, we shed 
 No blood in Gorsedd. If a man swear an 
 
 oath, 
 He shall not break his word. 
 
 [They stand silent and motionless, 
 while GwYNN draws back the 
 curtain, letting in a momentary 
 flood of pure sunlight, passes out 
 slowly into the bright forest, and 
 6i 
 
MONA 
 
 is gone. The curtain falls he^ 
 hind him across the light. 
 
 Gloom 
 
 For evermore, 
 Thou shalt not see his face I 
 
 [MoNA stands motionless , with bowed 
 head, down centre, the sword 
 clasped across her bosom, Car- 
 ADOC crosses to her and kneels 
 at her feet, drawing his sword 
 and raising it aloft, Arth and 
 Gloom, to right and left, Arth 
 above her and Gloom below, do 
 likewise. 
 
 All 
 Hall, Child and Queen! . . 
 
 MoNA 
 
 {still in an inspiration) 
 
 Fire . . . and a sound of battle, . . and 
 
 a dream 
 Reborn out of old years, and a new song, 
 62 
 
MONA 
 
 Terrible with the joy of angry men 
 Gaining and guarding freedom — 
 
 {^The tension snaps. She drops her 
 arms and wilts as if under a vio- 
 lent blow; turns half toward the 
 door, and takes a step as though 
 to follow, 
 
 — Gwynn ! Ah, Gwynn ! 
 For evermore, I shall not see his 
 face. . . 
 
 \_The sword falls from her hand. 
 She turns from the door again, 
 buries her face in her hands, and 
 shakes with sobbing, like a child. 
 The others have risen at her first 
 giving way, and stand trans- 
 fixed, their swords still raised 
 aloft. 
 [The CURTAIN delays for a moment, 
 to let the picture strike home; 
 then falls quickly. 
 END OF ACT FIRST 
 63 
 
ACT THE SECOND 
 
 The Cromlech in the Forest. 
 A Month Later, Evening. 
 
ACT II 
 
 The scene represents a Cromlech^ or 
 Druidic open-air temple in the forest; 
 so placed that its centre is in the cen" 
 tre of the stage, about ten feet above 
 the footlights. At this point rises a 
 huge oak-tree, venerable with mistle- 
 toe and streaming moss; whose 
 branches, spreading out on either side, 
 extend the whole width of the pro- 
 scenium, just under the arch. Imme- 
 diately in front of the tree is a rude 
 altar, composed of a single block of 
 stone roughly rectangular in shape, 
 about three feet high and four long. 
 On its front is hewn the Sign /j\ 
 of the Name; and those branches of 
 the tree which reach out toward the 
 audience seem curiously to repeat this 
 67 
 
MONA 
 
 pgure, bending downward and out- 
 ward in three diverging lines. Be- 
 hind the tree is a semicircular wall of 
 large rough stones, whose diameter is 
 a little less than the width of the stage. 
 Directly behind the tree is an opening 
 in this wall y six or eight feet wide; and 
 the semicircle ends on each side about 
 the same distance above the curtain, 
 so as to give the impression of similar 
 openings there — as if the other half 
 of the circle were out in the audience. 
 This wall is crumbling and irregular, 
 nowhere more than four feet high: so 
 that one looks over and through it, 
 seeing beyond it and some distance 
 hack the huge standing stones of the 
 outer circle, separated by about twice. 
 their own width; and between and be- 
 yond these again, green and mysteri- 
 ous forest as far as the eye can reach. 
 Even now, the structure appears old 
 68 
 
MONA 
 
 and neglected; the forest is creeping 
 in between the stones of the outer cir- 
 cle, and the space between it and the 
 wall is dotted with bushes and young 
 saplings. One or two of the great 
 stones have fallen; the inner wall is 
 crumbling here and there, and a few 
 loose stones are lying about within; 
 and the ground there is uneven, and 
 covered with deep moss. Upon the 
 altar are the charred remains of a 
 small pre, some time extinct; and the 
 moss thereabout is trodden as by many 
 feet. 
 
 The light is that of a clear summer 
 evening just after sunset and before 
 dusk. Striking slantwise across the 
 scene from left to right, it marks the 
 points of the compass {south being 
 up stage) and the hour of the day. 
 During the act, it grows darker so 
 gradually that the advancing night is 
 69 
 
MONA 
 
 noticeable only as called attention to 
 by the actors. And the end of the 
 act takes place in bright moonlight. 
 As the curtain rises, NiAL is seen within the 
 inner circle, dancing with his shadow; 
 at first to left of the altar, afterwards 
 over the whole open space. 
 
 NiAL 
 {still dancing) 
 Brother am I to all the trees, and child 
 Of the warm-sweet earth and the merry 
 
 sun — 
 And all the birds and blossoms and wild 
 
 things 
 Of the forest, they are my brothers 
 too. . . 
 
 [A bird begins to sing and flutter 
 among the branches above him. 
 He holds up his arms. 
 
 Come dance 
 With NIal, my brother I 
 70 
 
MONA 
 
 [ The bird lights on his hand. 
 
 They are not afraid — ■ 
 They know I have no soul. 
 
 [Dancing again, the bird fluttering 
 about him. 
 
 Is It not brave 
 To breathe sweet breath, and sing under 
 
 the sun, 
 And laugh beside the fire, and have no 
 soul? 
 
 [He pauses, to the right of the tree, in 
 
 a kind of dreaminess which is 
 
 his nearest approach to thought. 
 
 Mona and Gloom and Gwynn — all my 
 
 wise friends. 
 Surely their souls torment them. They 
 
 have strange 
 Hot joys called Love and Hate and Fear, 
 
 wherewith 
 To burn themselves. . . I cannot under- 
 stand. . . 
 [Dancing again. 
 71 
 
MONA 
 
 Nay, I had rather have my playfellow 
 To dance with. He must be my brother 
 
 too, 
 For the earth and the sunshine made him. 
 
 Brother, come. 
 Dance with NIal ! Leap with NIal ! Ho I 
 
 [^Pausing again, before the altar. 
 
 Perhaps 
 He IS my soul ... I wonder . . . and 
 
 perhaps 
 Their souls are in their shadows; . . for 
 
 their shadows 
 Gleam in the dark with strange bright 
 
 colors — green, 
 Purple, and crimson; . . but my shadow Is 
 
 gray, 
 And In the dark I have no shadow at 
 
 all. . . 
 Perhaps all souls arc shadows. . . 
 
 Nay, come dance 
 With me, my soul I 
 
 [He is still dancing, to left of the, aU 
 72 
 
MONA 
 
 tar, when The Governor, at the 
 head of a few Ught-armed Roman 
 soldiers, enters up stage. They 
 push rapidly through the trees 
 and into the inner circle. 
 
 The Governor 
 {as they enter) 
 Seize him . . I But slay him not — 
 [The Soldiers come down left and 
 surround NiAL, who makes no 
 attempt to escape. The Gov- 
 ernor comes down to right of 
 the tree and below it — a sol- 
 dierly, vigorous man of fifty, 
 thin-lipped and quick-eyed, the 
 black hair under his helmet just 
 beginning to be threaded with 
 gray; his manner alert without 
 hurry and decisive without pom- 
 posity; dangerous and efficient 
 because free from all doubts. 
 73 
 
MONA 
 
 NiAL 
 How red your shadows are . . I 
 
 What would ye have 
 Of Nial? 
 
 The Governor 
 Come hither. Stand there. 
 [Nial comes down beside the altar, 
 {to the soldiers) 
 
 Guard him. 
 [ They close in around NiAL with lev- 
 eled spears, NiAL remains ab- 
 solutely unconcerned. 
 
 So. . . 
 {Rapidly examining the altar and the 
 ground about it. 
 Footprints ! A whole tribe hath been gath- 
 ered here — 
 Women, too. . . 
 
 Ashes I Ay, a sacrifice. . . 
 [Finding a spearhead 
 Spears ! 
 
 74 
 
MONA 
 
 (to Nial) 
 Listen, thou I What hath befallen here? 
 
 Nial 
 Nothing. I have been dancing with my 
 soul. 
 
 The Governor 
 Answer me! Who met here? How 
 
 many ? Whence 
 And why came they ? 
 
 Nial 
 Gloom says I may not know. 
 
 The Governor 
 Who IS Gloom, then? 
 
 Nial 
 My brother. They are all 
 My brothers. They have souls, and they 
 
 are wise. 
 They say that ye are wolves that eat this 
 land; 
 
 75 
 
MONA 
 
 Therefore, they say, ye shall all surely 
 
 die — 
 But how and when. Gloom says I may not 
 
 know. . . 
 
 (curiously\ 
 What IS It like to die ? 
 
 The Governor 
 (grimly, but without angery 
 
 Thou shalt soon learn — 
 A sword, there I 
 
 [/f Soldier draws his sword, and pre^ 
 sents it at Nial's throat,, NiAL 
 remains utterly unimpressed. 
 Answer now I 
 
 NiAL 
 
 I cannot answer — 
 Gloom says I may not know. 
 
 [Looking naively at the sword, and 
 reaching out to touch it, as a child 
 might do. 
 
 That sword Is like 
 76 
 
MONA 
 
 The sword that Mona dreamed of In her 
 dream. . . 
 
 The Governor 
 Bind him ! . . A bowstring round his tem- 
 ples, now — 
 Silence him I 
 
 [NiAL, still unresisting and uncomprC' 
 hending, is bound and gagged, 
 A bowstring is knotted about his 
 forehead, and a stick thrust 
 through it to twist, GwYNN ev 
 ters suddenly from the right, 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Father! — Hold! 
 [The Governor turns to him with 
 the same matter-of-course formal- 
 ity as if the meeting had been ex- 
 pected and ordinary. GwYNN 
 kneels before him, and The Gov- 
 ernor lays a hand upon his head. 
 11 
 
MONA 
 
 The Governor 
 
 Quintus, my son, 
 I bless thee. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 (rising, to the soldiers)] 
 Let him go — unbind him ! 
 [They obey without waiting for any 
 confirmation of the order. 
 GwYNN turns to explain. 
 
 Nay, 
 Father, he would not speak : he Is one from 
 
 whom, 
 Unborn, earth-daemons reft the soul 
 
 away — 
 The harmless, empty body of a man. 
 
 NiAL 
 
 Gwynn, I give thanks; they would have 
 
 done me harm. . . 
 Surely these are not wolves — the wolves 
 
 are all 
 My brothers. 
 
 78 
 
MONA 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Nial — 
 [NiAL seats himself up to left of the 
 tree, interested hut quite out of 
 the scene. The Soldiers draw 
 up in a rigid line at the left end 
 of the wall. 
 
 My father, ask of me. 
 \^He throws off his green robe, disclos- 
 ing beneath it the white tunic, 
 breastplate, and short sword of a 
 centurion, 
 I am a Roman soldier, and thy son. 
 
 The Governor 
 
 Therefore I came here. Majiy tongues 
 
 have said 
 Thou wert a Briton, and mine enemy. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Dost thou believe this, father? 
 79 
 
MONA 
 
 The Governor 
 
 Quintus, no. 
 I believe no dishonor of my blood 
 By hearsay. Answer therefore. 
 
 This whole land 
 Which late lay more at peace than ever, 
 
 now 
 Hums like a hive in swarm. Over the 
 
 length 
 And breadth of Britain, every camp and 
 
 town 
 Sends in the same tale — gatherings by 
 
 night, 
 Forbidden sacrifices In old shrines, 
 Forging of weapons, Druids preaching war. 
 And here and there some lonely Roman 
 
 slain 
 Out in the forest. Southward, our own 
 
 towns 
 Return seditious rumors. 
 
 What hast thou 
 To say of this? 
 
 80 
 
MONA 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 It is all true. 
 
 The Governor 
 
 I have heard 
 Of one going about among the tribes 
 To rouse revolt — a woman, beautiful — 
 Her thou hast guarded and defended, held 
 Our garrisons from taking her, and left 
 Her free to stir up trouble at her will — 
 What of this? 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 X^s before, without the least shame 
 or embarrassment, meeting his 
 father^ s look fairly. 
 It Is true ... I love her. 
 
 The Governor 
 [Not shocked, nor as a mentor, but as 
 one who hears quietly the con- 
 firming of a shameful suspicion. 
 8i 
 
MONA 
 
 Boy, 
 Man's honor Rath no subtler enemy 
 Than longing for a woman. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 She Is more, 
 Father — she Is their queen, even as though 
 Boadlcea came on earth again, 
 Whom they believe and follow ; 
 (emphatically) 
 
 Winning her, 
 I win at once all Britain. 
 
 The Governor 
 
 Take her, then! 
 I took thy mother captive even so. . . 
 She, lying by my side, saved many lives. 
 
 GwYNN 
 
 (with premature triumph) 
 Mona and I together shall save all — 
 Yet wherein should her body profit me 
 But if I win her will? 
 82 
 
MONA 
 
 The Governor 
 {impatiently practical) 
 
 Play not with words — 
 A woman's heart is In her body, Boy — 
 I had thought thee more a man ! 
 
 Enough ! Meanwhile, 
 What of this war? 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 There was to have been war ; 
 There shall be peace. 
 
 The Governor 
 
 Their plans, then — ? 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 I have sworn 
 Not to betray — 
 
 The Governor 
 (losing patience) 
 Betray ! Canst thou betray 
 Enemies? 
 
 83 
 
MONA 
 
 (with infinite scorn) 
 An oath to a Barbarian . . 1 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 An oath to their god, that Is my god, too. 
 
 The Governor 
 Gods ! In these times, we make new gods 
 
 each day! 
 There Is but one god for a man — his name 
 Is Duty. Speak ! 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Father, If a man swear, 
 He shall not break his word. . . . 
 
 [The Governor's patience gives out 
 altogether; he motions to The 
 Soldiers, who spring forward. 
 Nay, hear me. . . 
 [He stretches out his arms. The 
 Governor hesitates an instant, 
 then stops The Soldiers with a 
 gesture, and paces frowningly to 
 
 84 
 
MONA 
 
 and fro before the altar while 
 GwYNN continues; showing no 
 sign of relenting, or even of being 
 impressed. 
 
 All 
 These years of peace are mine — my work. 
 
 I went 
 Among my mother's people, owned their 
 
 god, 
 Became their Bard, knew them and . . . 
 
 honored them — 
 Do men love legions, or confide In foes? 
 They hate Rome; I have healed that 
 
 hatred. Now, 
 Where the old scars ache shall we stab 
 
 again 
 Till the whole body perish? True, our 
 
 arms 
 Will crush them down. How long will 
 
 they He still? 
 Hearts, not swords, make our Roman prov- 
 inces I — 
 
 85 
 
MONA 
 
 Let peace make one conquest that shall en- 
 dure! 
 
 The Governor 
 
 {pausing) 
 
 Words again! When a sullen-snarling 
 
 hound 
 Slinks close behind thy heel, dost thou de- 
 lay 
 
 For parley? Strike the first blow, and be 
 done! 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 These are no curs, to snarl and lick the 
 lash — 
 
 These are they whom great Caesar could 
 not quell ! 
 
 [The Governor faces him, im- 
 pressed for the first time. 
 GwYNN goes on with the au- 
 thority and confidence of his 
 ideal, 
 
 86 
 
MONA 
 
 My way or thine — One peace or many 
 
 wars — 
 Choose! Art thou general, or governor? 
 
 The Governor 
 
 Thou hast failed thy duty; wilt thou teach 
 me mine? 
 
 GV^YNN 
 
 (steadily) 
 Truth spoken by a traitor still is true. 
 
 The Governor 
 
 [With a gesture of almost weary im- 
 patience. 
 Words again! Show me deeds. How 
 
 shall we try 
 Thy truth? 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 I said there was to have been war ; 
 I say there shall be peace. 
 87 
 
MONA 
 
 The Governor 
 
 Then prove thyself ! — 
 {^He pauses, for a moment of judg- 
 ment; then delivers his ultimatum 
 with deliberate emphasis. 
 See now : 
 
 I hold these dogs in my two hands, 
 And if they move, I break them. 
 {with a gesture) 
 
 Thou hast said 
 They will obey thee ; prove it. Hold their 
 
 hands 
 From bloodshed, and I pardon them. Let 
 
 one 
 Drop of blood flow, and I will drown their 
 
 vain 
 Rebellion in a surge of death, burn out 
 Conspiracy with fire, and crucify 
 False hopes on every tree in the forest 1 
 {more slowly and calmly) 
 
 Now, 
 88 
 
MONA 
 
 Save them. Thou art their fate. All 
 
 hangs on thee. 
 Let them He still and live, or strike and die I 
 I have spoken. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 It is well ; I ask no more — 
 tet them He still and live, or strike and 
 
 die! — 
 Mona and I shall hold them harmless. 
 
 The Governor 
 
 {with a last suspicion, looking keenly into 
 Gwynn's eyes) 
 
 Boy, 
 
 Thou hast thy mother's blood. . . If I 
 
 could think 
 Thy double garment held a double heart — 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 {not theatrically, hut very quietly) 
 Two garments, father, but one heart 
 within ; 
 
 89 
 
MONA 
 
 Two nations, and one blood. . . 
 
 Nay, I confess 
 That I have let the weight of my great love 
 Hang round the neck of duty. . . Now I 
 
 pray tEee 
 Trust me ... or trust me never. 
 
 IHe kneels, as at first. The Gov- 
 ernor, with the first gentle 
 emotion he has shown, repeats 
 the gesture of blessing. 
 
 The Governor 
 
 Be It so — 
 I trust thee then ... my son ! 
 
 [GwYNN rises, and they grip hands. 
 If thy faith fail, 
 Let me die ! 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 The dusk falls. . . Ye are too few 
 
 For safety. I will guide you to the town. 
 
 \During the preceding scene, it has 
 
 been growing darker so gradu- 
 
 90 
 
MONA 
 
 ally, that only now does one real- 
 ize that it is twilight. The Gov- 
 ernor, motioning The Sol- 
 diers to follow, goes out centre, 
 GwYNN walking by his side. 
 NiAL, rising, follows them with 
 his eyes until they disappear 
 among the trees. When he can 
 no longer hear them, he turns 
 and comes slowly down. 
 
 NiAL 
 
 Red shadows, and the souls of angry 
 
 men. . . 
 It must be all true, or else all a dream! 
 [He lies down at full length before the 
 altar , gazing into the dusk. The 
 moon is just rising, shown by 
 the direction of the stage light 
 changing and the shadows fall- 
 ing from right to left; and her 
 light increases as gradually as 
 91 
 
MONA 
 
 the daylight has waned, until by 
 the time of Arth^s entrance it is 
 full moonlight. 
 Night, and cool winds. . . How still the 
 
 forest Is, 
 Now they are gone! My brothers are 
 
 asleep 
 Already. . . Only the hushed owl drifts 
 
 by, 
 Silently as a winged shadow. . . And 
 
 there 
 The quick bat flutters past, a messenger 
 To wake the Little People — Nial knows I 
 Now the small voices under all the leaves 
 Are telling secrets. . . 
 
 {^As Nial pauses, Mona and Gloom 
 enter slowly from the right. 
 MoNA is still in her white robe, 
 with a spear and a short byrny 
 over which the sword is girt from 
 her shoulder; but she has neither 
 helmet nor shield. 
 92 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 Niall Art thou alone? 
 
 NiAL 
 
 My sister . . ! 
 
 IHe rises, and stands looking at her 
 wonderingly. 
 
 Thou art very beautiful 
 And very far away — 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Nial, what news? 
 
 NiAL 
 
 The Little People will be out; the bat 
 Has just gone — 
 
 Gloom 
 
 {impatiently) 
 
 Where Is Arth? 
 
 NiAL 
 
 I know not. 
 93 
 
MONA 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Go 
 
 And seek him. 
 
 [NiAL goes out left, Gloom turns 
 abruptly to MoNA, who is stand- 
 ing with bowed head before the 
 altar. 
 
 We have little space to dream. 
 Our war begins at midnight — before then, 
 Sacrifice and sword-giving. Hast thou 
 
 kept 
 The tallies ? 
 
 MONA 
 
 Here. . . 
 \She hands him square wooden bars 
 carved with runic signs. He 
 seats himself on the rock, right, 
 reading them and making addi- 
 tions with his knife. 
 
 Gloom 
 Twelve myriad fighting men I 
 94 
 
MONA 
 
 Rome has not half so many souls alive 
 In Britain ! So our work ends — to-night, 
 
 war — 
 To-morrow, victory I 
 
 MONA 
 {turning from the altar ^ slowly) 
 
 If we ourselves 
 Fall not. . . 
 
 Gloom 
 Dost thou fear failure? 
 
 MONA 
 
 \_Moving slowly away from him, to 
 left of altar. 
 
 Nay, not fear — 
 Only ... all hangs on us. 
 {pausing) 
 
 If yonder town 
 Fall to-night, then from hill to hill our 
 fires 
 
 95 
 
MONA 
 
 Shall flash the tidings, till all Britain flares 
 Into one blaze ere dawn. But ... If we 
 
 fail, 
 How then? 
 
 \turning toward him) 
 Were it not better all should strike 
 At one forechosen hour, waiting no sign? 
 
 Gloom 
 
 What matter? We but prove our faith. 
 
 [He thrusts the tallies into his girdle, 
 and rises. 
 
 Nay, more — 
 Thou art here ; Thou, the old Queen's soul 
 
 reborn 
 Our leader and our strength. What fight 
 
 can fail 
 Where thou art? All the hope of Britain 
 
 waits 
 Thee, and thee only 1 
 96 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 I to fight with men. . . 
 To pierce flesh . . . and see blood flow . . . 
 IShe is standing below him and to left, 
 her head hent, her spear held 
 slantwise across her body by the 
 incongruous gesture of clasping 
 her hands at her breast. 
 
 Gloom 
 {at his full height, magnificently) 
 
 Thou to save 
 And conquer I 
 
 {advancing, in an ecstasy) 
 Have no fear — thy womanhood 
 And the beauty of thee shall burn before 
 
 them, fair 
 And terrible, a sweet white flame of war, 
 A light from old years, and a wonderful 
 
 death. 
 And a dream plunging down eternity 
 To change the world. 
 97 
 
MONA 
 
 [He is close before her, aflame with 
 an ardor which he struggles to 
 color with patriotism. This at 
 first she does not, and then will 
 not, see, 
 
 MONA 
 
 {impulsively) 
 Gloom, thou art glorious . . ! 
 If I were sure — 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Thou and I throned above 
 Rejoicing freedom — Thou and I one 
 power — 
 
 MONA 
 
 Brother and sister — 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Priest and prophetess, — 
 One soul to be remembered when our bones 
 Blossom together — 
 98 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 Let my work not fail — 
 I ask no more. Take thou the glory. 
 
 l^She draws back from him. He 
 throws off the mask. 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Child, 
 How have I any glory but in thee ? 
 How have I borne thy beauty? How en- 
 dured 
 These long dry years of brotherhood — 
 \^He stretches his arms to her. She 
 springs hack, turning so that the 
 light falls upon her face, a frozen 
 majesty in every line of her. 
 
 MONA 
 
 Gloom, Gloom, 
 I am not woman, but a sword ; not flesh. 
 But steel. Who but thine own self taught 
 me this? 
 
 99 
 
MONA 
 
 Gloom 
 It is true. . . 
 
 [He draws hack, conquered as much 
 by reason as by her greater faith, 
 NiAL enters, from the left, fol- 
 lowed by Enya and Arth. 
 
 NiAL 
 
 They are here, under the moon ; 
 Their souls reach forth before them. 
 
 Enya 
 
 {embracing MoNA, with half -hysterical 
 
 motherliness) 
 
 My little one 
 That loved me. . ! 
 
 \_They move across to the altar, 
 then draw apart: MoNA stand- 
 ing at the right lower corner of 
 the altar, Enya a little above 
 the altar, to left of the tree. 
 Gloom and Arth are below 
 
 100 
 
» . ' . » ». 
 
 monA 
 
 them, to right and left, NiAL 
 remains near the left end of the 
 inner wall, 
 
 Arth 
 Gloom, how have ye fared? 
 
 Gloom 
 
 We count 
 Twelve myriad fighting men. 
 
 Arth 
 
 And the time? 
 
 Gloom 
 
 To-morrow. 
 We ourselves move at midnight on the 
 town. 
 
 Arth 
 
 {drunk with hate, brandishing his spear, 
 and shouting) 
 
 Ourselves first? I grow young again! 
 
 lOI 
 
MONA 
 
 Ha, wolves 
 That feast and frolic yonder, sweet with 
 -oil 
 
 And glad with garlands — It shall not be 
 long, 
 
 Not long, now, till the end! 
 
 MONA 
 
 {^Before the altar, facing forward, her 
 arms upraised, her face tense 
 with inspiration. 
 
 Until the end. . I 
 
 Enya 
 
 {taking a step toward her, timidly) 
 
 Child, art thou that same child that pushed 
 my breast 
 
 With baby hands, and walled? Thou art 
 glorified — 
 
 There Is a light about thee, and a power — 
 
 102 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 {rigid, her arms at her sides, looking into 
 
 infinity ) 
 I have remembered old years, and seen men 
 Fall down and worship me. 
 
 Enya 
 
 Did they believe — . 
 All those wild folk — ? 
 
 MONA 
 
 {half to herself) 
 
 It is as if these trees 
 Bowed themselves down before me — as if 
 
 the sea 
 Obeyed me — yet not me, but what I 
 am. . . 
 A vision of swift journeyings by day, 
 Glimmering forests, windy crags, lone 
 
 moors 
 Immeasurable where birds cry, and gray 
 sands 
 
 103 
 
MONA 
 
 Thunderous with the ever-changing sea — 
 Torches and shouts, wild gatherings by- 
 night, 
 And firelit circles of astonished eyes. 
 Men falling on their faces, oaths and 
 
 prayers. . . 
 Strange as a dream's fulfilment of a dream ! 
 I have heard voices in the dark, and seen 
 Visions of kings forgotten, bidding me 
 Go forward, and be strong, and have no 
 
 fear — 
 I have dreamed of the White World, and 
 
 God's love 
 Bathing me like sweet flame. . . 
 
 Arth 
 
 Enough of dreams ! 
 Come, let us feast before the battle. 
 
 Come! 
 The time passes. 
 
 104 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 I have no need thereof. 
 Leave me here for a little while, to pray. 
 
 Enya 
 Is there no danger? — 
 
 Arth 
 
 Nay, with Nial at hand 
 No harm can fall. Come, then. . . 
 
 IHe leads the way out to the left. 
 Enya hesitates, then follows. 
 Gloom, going out last, pauses to 
 took hack at MoNA standing to 
 right of the altar and just be- 
 low it. 
 
 Gloom 
 (slowly) 
 Foredoomed, ordained, 
 Prophesied. . . 
 
 [He goes out. In the quietness, 
 NiAL suddenly lifts his head and 
 listens to something in the forest. 
 105 
 
MONA 
 
 NiAL 
 
 Mona — Hark. . . 
 
 MONA 
 {hearing nothing) 
 
 What IS It, Nial? 
 
 NiAL 
 
 The Little People — They are calling 
 me. . . 
 
 MONA 
 Go to them. 
 
 [He goes out, up stage, Mona leans 
 her spear against the tree; moves 
 to the front of the altar, draws 
 the sword, and lays it thereupon; 
 then kneels before it, facing up 
 stage. 
 Night and day, deed and dream, sight 
 And vision — all one faith, all one de- 
 sire — 
 Britain. . . 
 
 1 06 
 
MONA 
 
 [A pause, Gwynn enters quietly 
 from the right. He stands a 
 moment watching her, just inside 
 the circle, 
 
 Gwynn 
 \to himself y softly) 
 God help me now. 
 [^Another pause, Mona gradually 
 becomes aware of his presence, 
 and rises, facing him, her right 
 hand on the sword, her left at 
 her throat. When she speaks, 
 her voice is tense and hollow, hut 
 unfaltering, 
 
 MONA 
 
 What dost thou here? 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 What I have ever done. 
 
 Mona 
 Thou art faithless. Go I 
 107 
 
MONA 
 
 [/^ is the same tone and manner that 
 crushed Gloom a little while 
 since; but this is not Gloom. 
 He goes on quite evenly. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Why? Dost thou fear to look upon me, 
 
 lest 
 Thine heart change? 
 
 MONA 
 
 {stung out of her heroics, and struggling 
 for self-possession) 
 Fear! 
 {scornfully) 
 
 I will not see thy face. 
 Get hence I 
 
 GwYNN 
 
 {advancing upon her, while she shrinks 
 away, the sword clasped to her breast) 
 Cry out then. Is one traitor's life 
 io8 
 
MONA 
 
 So great a matter? Thou that art to slay 
 Thousands ere dawn, canst thou not see me 
 die? 
 
 MONA 
 
 {desperately) 
 Go from me! 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 {still nearer) 
 True, thou hast loved me. True, 
 thine heart 
 Cries out for me — What matter ? Thou 
 
 art not flesh 
 But steel. Summon thy swords I 
 
 MONA 
 {recovering herself and rising into a mar- 
 tyrdom; facing him calmly, with the al- 
 most pitying tone of one who will not 
 stoop to anger) 
 
 Gwynn, presently 
 I must fight. Peradventure I must die. 
 109 
 
MONA 
 
 Canst thou not hush that little fleshly wail 
 Called love, and leave me here with God? 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Canst thouf 
 
 MONA 
 {with quiet finality , her hands pointing to 
 
 the sign upon her breast) 
 I bear the Sign here of a greater thing. 
 Whereto I am reborn. I am not myself, 
 But Britain. 
 
 (^turning away to the altar as if he were not 
 there) 
 Go now. 
 
 GwYNN 
 
 Therefore I am here : 
 There is yet time to save Britain and 
 
 thee. . . 
 — Now all things take one answer ! 
 
 [He takes her suddenly in his arms. 
 She turns, writhing away from 
 no 
 
MONA 
 
 him, her body bent backward, 
 and her head falling against his 
 shoulder. Even at first, she can' 
 not struggle with her full 
 strength; and presently, as her- 
 self overpowers her, she grows 
 more quiet, and at last quite still. 
 Struggle now — 
 Call to thy friends. . . 
 
 Look ! Thou and I alone 
 In the whole great world, under the dim 
 
 sky, 
 And the night's arms around us. . . 
 
 MONA 
 
 Let me go — 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Night, and earth yearning upward to the 
 
 moon, 
 And the shadows calling to us, and the 
 
 winds 
 
 III 
 
MONA 
 
 Dizzy with sweet, and the summer's huge 
 
 heart, slow 
 Throbbing around us. . . 
 
 Thou and I close, close. . . 
 
 MONA 
 
 (with closed eyes) 
 Be still — I will not hear thee. . . 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Night, and thou 
 Near me amid the moonbeams, beautiful — • 
 A lily on the gloom of a dim lake. 
 Thy golden heart wide open to the wind, 
 A freshness and a fragrance glimmering up 
 Out of cool depths — A wild bird with 
 
 glad eyes — ' 
 A mystery beyond all dreaming dear. 
 Holier than the hope of pleasing God, 
 More to be hungered after than lost 
 
 youth, — 
 Lips and arms, life and glory, mine, mine, 
 
 mine — 
 
 112 
 
MONA 
 
 \^He stops suddenly, releasing her. 
 She falls back a step below and 
 to right of him, and stands half- 
 stunned, her hands over her eyes, 
 GwYNN catches the sword from 
 the altar, and holds out the hilt 
 to her, speaking with a sudden 
 jarring sharpness. 
 Take thy sword. I shall die by that same 
 
 blade. 
 So be It. 
 
 Strike now. 
 
 [Her hands drop. She gazes at him 
 blindly a moment; then the flood 
 breaks, 
 
 MONA 
 
 Gwynn. . . Ah, come to me I 
 
 \She stretches forth her arms to him. 
 He flings away the sword; they 
 hold each other, 
 113 
 
MONA 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Mona. . ! 
 
 ^A short pause. He draws her down 
 beside him on the rock, she 
 half reclining below him and 
 lower down, her head resting 
 against his knee; he bending over 
 her. 
 Night, and thou near me in the warm 
 
 gloom. . . 
 And on thy lips a faintness and a flame — I 
 All the vain sorrow forgotten — all our 
 
 dreams 
 New born, sweet with surrender — won- 
 derful, 
 Holy . . . 
 
 Mona 
 There is a cloud over the moon — 
 I cannot see thy face. . . Only thine arms 
 Around me like strong sleep. . . Only thy 
 voice — 
 
 114 
 
MONA 
 
 And all our children laughing in thine 
 
 eyes . . I 
 And it is good for me to put away 
 Weariness, and the fever of high deeds, 
 And the dry hunger. . . Now earth sinks 
 
 and swims 
 Falling, and the great river of joy flows 
 
 down, — 
 Inevitable, tender, luminous, — 
 And whelms me, and I float under the 
 
 moon 
 Quietly, toward the foam-bright sea 
 
 ... Down, down. 
 Where the glimmering shores grow faint, 
 
 and darkness 
 Buries the sky, and the stars drown, and 
 
 the deep 
 Rises over me, and I dream. . . 
 
 How soft 
 Thy hair is, Gwynn. . . 
 
 Far off In the dead void. 
 Torches flare, and I hear a murmuring 
 115 
 
MONA 
 
 Of old wars, and fierce multitudes that howl 
 
 For me to lead them, wailing women, 
 prayers. 
 
 And clanging swords and shrieking prophe- 
 cies — 
 
 All dull and ugly like some old ill dream. — 
 
 Ah, let me not remember. . I 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Dear, I bid thee 
 Remember, and rejoice in all. This night 
 Thou hast saved Britain. 
 
 MONA 
 
 Britain. . . Let me go I 
 {^The spell is broken. She shakes 
 herself free and stands, dazed, 
 between the rock and the altar, 
 GwYNN, also on his feet, and not 
 realizing the change in her, goes 
 on confidently. 
 
 What have I done ? 
 
 ii6 
 
MONA 
 
 GWYNN 
 I would not speak till now — 
 I would not buy thy heart for promises — 
 Now it is finished I I must have thee first 
 Made queen over all Britain, then all mine, 
 Now all for peace. 
 
 " Let them lie still and live, 
 Or strike, and die! " 
 
 Mona, hear me — we two 
 Shall join in one firm love Britain and 
 
 Rome 
 Forever I 
 
 Mona 
 Gwynn. . . I cannot see thy face. . . 
 It is all dark. . . 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 {too full of his triumph to realize that she 
 hardly hears him) 
 Dost thou need proof? What held 
 The Roman garrisons from taking thee? 
 117 
 
MONA 
 
 Child, thou hadst been a prisoner twenty 
 times 
 
 But for me. 
 
 MONA 
 
 \harshly and dully) 
 What hast thou to do with Rome ? 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Not less than thou with Britain. My one 
 voice 
 
 Answers for Rome here — 
 
 MONA 
 
 What hast thou to do 
 With Rome? 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 I am Roman born — 
 
 MONA 
 
 Thou — Roman . . ? 
 ii8 
 
MONA 
 
 Yea, 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Moreover — 
 
 MONA 
 
 Help, Ho! 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 {utterly surprised)^ 
 
 Mona — 
 
 MONA 
 
 '{frantically) 
 
 Treason I Help, Hoi 
 
 [She catches up the sword from the 
 
 ground, and swings it at him, 
 
 crying: 
 
 By this same blade it is thy doom to die 1 
 
 [He catches her arm, and wrests the 
 
 sword from her. As he does so, 
 
 Arth rushes in centre followed 
 
 by a shouting crowd of Britons 
 
 119 
 
MONA 
 
 with torches and spears; and 
 from the left, a throng of Bards 
 and Druids, led by Glck)M and 
 Caradoc, pour in and across the 
 stage. More and more keep 
 pouring in, men and women, 
 shouting and tossing their weap- 
 ons. MoNA springs hack up 
 stage and to the right to let 
 them pass, pointing accusingly 
 at GwYNN. Arth reaches him 
 first, and strikes at him with his 
 spear. Gloom attacking him 
 from the left almost at the same 
 instant. 
 
 Arth 
 
 \as he strikes) 
 
 Ha, Gwynn the Peacemaker ! 
 
 [GwYNN parries, and strikes him 
 down with the hilt, 
 
 120 
 
MONA 
 
 Gloom 
 (as he strikes) 
 
 At last I 
 [GwYNN, his hack against the rock, 
 disarms him, and hurls him hack 
 among the crowd. But by this 
 time the crowd has reached him, 
 and still others, rushing in right, 
 attack him from behind. He is 
 instantly surrounded, disarmed, 
 pinned down upon the rock, and 
 threatened by many weapons. 
 MONA stands above and to the 
 right of GwYNN, upon a rising 
 ground that makes her clearly 
 visible above the heads of the 
 crowd; Arth and Gloom are 
 upon their feet again, and push- 
 ing forward, Arth to right of 
 the tree and Gloom down stage 
 to left of the altar; Caradoc is 
 
 121 
 
MONA 
 
 before the altar, and Enya up 
 left, among the crowd. The 
 stage is full of raging men, 
 screaming women, and waving 
 torches. 
 
 Voices in the Crowd 
 {as GwYNN is overpowered) 
 
 Who is he? 
 Enya 
 Blood! Blood I 
 
 MONA 
 
 {pointing to Gwynn with the sword) 
 He IS — 
 {^The crowd suddenly quiets to listen; 
 and in the momentary hush, 
 Mona's rage looks upon itself. 
 She could have killed Gwynn 
 with her hands a moment since; 
 hut now, in cold blood, she can' 
 not hand him over to be torn in 
 
 122 
 
MONA 
 
 pieces. She raises her arms in 
 the sign of the Name; her tone 
 changes. 
 
 He IS a Bard I 
 \_The crowd hears hack from Gwynn, 
 astonished and awed, Cara- 
 DOC, Arth, and Gloom, break 
 through the shrinking circle of 
 them and wave them on. 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Heed her not ! 
 
 Caradoc 
 He is not one of us I 
 
 Arth 
 
 Kill I Kill! 
 
 [The tumult rises afresh, Mona 
 pushes forward in front of 
 Gwynn, driving the Britons 
 hack. 
 
 123 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 Hold off, 
 On your lives I Back ! 
 
 [She turns, facing the three leaders. 
 Who am I . . ? Answer me I 
 Who am I . . ? 
 
 Caradoc 
 The Queen I 
 [A short pause. No one moves or 
 questions her wilL She turns to 
 the Britons who are holding 
 GWYNN. 
 
 MONA 
 
 Bind him and lead him hence — 
 Do him no hurt. . . 
 
 [As GwYNN is swallowed up in the 
 crowd, she turns hack to the 
 others, once more an inspired 
 Amazon, 
 
 124 
 
MONA 
 
 Give out the swords I Wait not 
 For midnight — Call the warriors ! 
 
 Gloom, Arth, Caradoc 
 
 It Is not time — 
 
 MONA 
 
 I am the time — obey I Give out the 
 
 swords ! 
 Rouse the tribe! Sound the gathering I 
 
 Bring hides, 
 Fagots and ladders — Give each man a 
 
 torch — 
 To your work, Druids! Onward, by the 
 
 Sign 
 Of the Name! Britain, Old Britain! 
 Ruin to Rome ! 
 
 {^During these last lines, men have 
 been hurrying about, bringing in 
 torches, ladders, weapons, etc., 
 until the stage is crowded and 
 tumultuous with tossing lights 
 and busy and disheveled figures, 
 125 
 
MONA 
 
 A fire is kindled on the altar, and 
 Gloom and Caradoc take their 
 places to right and left of it, and 
 Druids and the Bards grouped 
 behind them, filling the space 
 immediately about the tree, 
 MoNA stands upon the rock to 
 the right, directing all; Arth 
 and Enya up stage to the left 
 of the tree; and the whole space 
 above and around filled with 
 confused preparation. As the 
 Bards take their place they raise 
 the following chant, the tribes- 
 men joining in and brandishing 
 their torches and weapons in 
 time to it as they hurry about: 
 
 Chorus 
 I 
 Out of the dim dens 
 Under the mountains, 
 126 
 
MONA 
 
 Forth from the forest, 
 
 Far from the fenlands — 
 
 Summon the swordsmen, 
 
 Waken the warriors, 
 
 Gather the Druids 
 
 To battle for Britain — 
 
 (Long swords for old Britain — ) 
 
 Ruin to Rome! 
 
 [Three men come in left, hearing arm- 
 •fills of long naked swords, which 
 they lay before the altar, Mona 
 descends from the rock, sheath- 
 ing her sword, and places herself 
 before it. As she sings, together 
 with the Druids and Bards about 
 the tree, the second stanza of 
 the chant, she raises each sword 
 in both hands high above her 
 head, passes it from right to left 
 in a circle around the fire, and 
 hands it to Gloom or Caradoc, 
 who present it to a Bard or Druid 
 127 
 
MONA 
 
 kneeling to receive it. As each 
 receives his weapon, he rises and 
 rushes out through the crowd, 
 waving it aloft. 
 
 MoNA, Gloom, Caradoc 
 AND THE Priests 
 
 II 
 
 By the soul In the flame, 
 
 By the death in the earth, 
 
 By the life in the air — 
 
 By the sound of the Name 
 That no mortal may bear, 
 Bringing ages to birth — 
 
 For the freedom denied us, 
 
 For the shame of the slave — 
 
 Give swords to the swordless, 
 
 Bright blades to the Bards, 
 
 White death to the Druids — 
 To guard us, to guide us, 
 To slay and to save ! 
 128 
 
MONA 
 
 {With the singing of the third stanza, 
 the tribesmen and their women 
 begin to rush out and away into 
 the forest in savage disorder , by 
 twos and threes, still singing. 
 The stage darkens gradually, as 
 the torches more and more are 
 carried away; and by the end of 
 the stanza, only the altar-fire 
 flickers against the moonlight, 
 Arth follows the Britons. 
 MoNA, Gloom, and Caradoc 
 are still in their places by the 
 altar; and a moment after 
 Arth's exit, Gloom draws his 
 own sword and starts after, mo- 
 tioning the others on; Caradoc 
 follows; MoNA, catching up her 
 spear from beside the tree, fol- 
 lows in turn, passing to turn with 
 a triumphant gesture as she passes 
 through the inner wall, 
 129 
 
MONA 
 
 Chorus 
 III 
 
 God Is grown hungry 
 
 Watching our weakness — 
 
 Hungry, beholding us 
 
 Frail and faint-hearted. 
 
 Slay we a sacrifice 
 
 Therefore, to feed Him — 
 
 Rouse the ravens, 
 
 Waken the lean wolves. 
 
 Onward for Britain! 
 
 (Broad spears for Old Britain — ) 
 
 Ruin to Rome! 
 
 \_The flame on the altar dies down. 
 Only Enya remains on the stage. 
 She runs to the opening in the 
 wall up stage and stands a mo- 
 ment looking after the others, 
 while the torches disappear and 
 the sound of the singing grows 
 fainter. Presently she reels down 
 130 
 
MONA 
 
 stage, wringing her hands, and 
 throws herself full length upon 
 her face before the altar, not 
 sobbing but lying still. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 {outside, more and more faintly, but not 
 
 slower) 
 
 IV 
 
 The sword, the defender, 
 
 She is holy and human, 
 She is white like a woman — 
 And shapely and slender ; 
 Demanding a master 
 To wield her and bend her — 
 Aflame for the focman, 
 Athirst for the Roman — 
 (Heart's blood of the Roman — ) 
 
 Red life and disaster — 
 Revenge, and surrender ! 
 
 [The singing dies out in the distance. 
 There remains only darkness and 
 131 
 
MONA 
 
 stillness, and the old woman ly- 
 ing prone before the altar. The 
 fire on the altar flickers and goes 
 out, and Enya stirs a little, then 
 lies still. Far away in the for- 
 est, a wolf howls. Then a mo- 
 ment of utter silence. And then 
 the CURTAIN falls slowly. 
 
 END OF ACT SECOND 
 
 132 
 
ACT THE THIRD 
 
 The edge of the forest, fronting the Roman 
 Town. 
 
 The same night; just before dawn. 
 
ACT III 
 
 The scene represents a small plateau on 
 the southern edge of the forest, front- 
 ing the Roman Town, On the stage 
 left, the edge of the forest extends di- 
 <agonally back so that the left upper 
 corner of the scene is hidden in thick 
 woods, sloping upward to the left. 
 The edge of this mass of trees, irreg- 
 ular and diversified with hushes and 
 fallen tree-trunks, indicates that the 
 open space is a natural glade and not 
 a clearing. To the rear is the irreg- 
 ularly concave brow of a declivity at 
 first sharp and steep {as shown by 
 tree-tops just beyond its edge) then 
 gradually sloping away across a shal- 
 low valley of meadow-land a mile or 
 so in width; and beyond, on the corre- 
 135 
 
MONA 
 
 sponding rise of ground across this 
 valley, the Roman Town appears: its 
 apparent height being five or six feet 
 above the stage-level, so that it may 
 easily he seen from all parts of the 
 house. Beyond and on both sides, 
 open rolling country extends to the 
 horizon. On the stage right, a high 
 and craggy mass of rocks extends out 
 on to the stage, in the shape, roughly, 
 of the corner of a square obliquely 
 placed. The wooded top of this is 
 only a few feet below the proscenium 
 arch; from thence the rock descends in 
 a cliff to about the height of a man, 
 then breaks to the level in a mass of 
 boulders and rubble. The cliff is 
 more broken toward its lower end, 
 more precipitous toward its upper; so 
 that near the footlights it may be 
 scaled. Above this cliff, and between 
 it and the edge of the plateau, a broad 
 136 
 
MONA 
 
 pathway runs diagonally of to the 
 right, sloping down the hillside, and 
 evidently the way to the plain and so 
 across to the Town, Near the pla- 
 teau*s edge and about on a line with 
 the foot of the cliffs to the right, lies 
 a large fallen tree; and on the edge 
 of the forest on the left is a seamed 
 and broken boulder, lying half way 
 up stage. The ground in the centre 
 is fairly level and smooth, grass-grown 
 and sloping a little upward at the 
 edges. The whole effect is that of the 
 mouth of a shallow gorge, open to 
 the southward {upstage) and enclosed 
 on the other three sides between rocky 
 and wooded hills. In general appear- 
 ance it is by far the most spacious of 
 the three sets; and the only one in 
 which the eye travels back into the ex- 
 treme distance. 
 
 At the beginning of the act, these 
 137 
 
MONA 
 
 details ctre invisible, for the time is 
 about half after three in the morning 
 of the same night as Act II; the moon 
 has set, and there is not yet any sign 
 of daybreak; the stage is as dark as is 
 effectively possible — just light enough 
 for the main outlines of the scene and 
 actions of the characters to appear. 
 The Roman Town is visible only by 
 the tiny lights of the battle-fires on the 
 walls and the moving sparks of torches 
 all about, whose reflection glows dull 
 red in the sky above it. And the roar 
 of the battle is heard only as a faint, 
 'almost inaudible murmur. 
 
 Day breaks very gradually during 
 the act; and the end takes place in bril- 
 liant sunlight, the brightest lighting of 
 the entire play. 
 As the CURTAIN rises, the stage is empty 
 and dark. It is at once apparent that 
 the scene is the mouth of a hill-gorge 
 138 
 
MONA 
 
 ending in a steep slope with a valley 
 and more hills opposite. But no more 
 is to be seen and the eye is led from 
 darkness to the Roman Town in the 
 distance, aglow with the dim light of 
 its own battle. Presently Nial and 
 Enya come through the trees on the 
 left, Nial crosses to the foot of the 
 rocks; Enya goes up left to the edge 
 of the slope, 
 
 Nial 
 {as he enters) 
 Here we can see, Mother. 
 
 Enya 
 
 The town still holds — 
 I had hoped that red sky showed it all In 
 
 flames. . . 
 And still no sign I 
 
 \^She turns and gazes a moment up 
 over the cliffs to the right, as if 
 for a signal, 
 139 
 
MONA 
 
 NiAL 
 What are those tiny lights, 
 Moving like fireflies in the darkness there? 
 [Pointing toward the Town, 
 
 Enya 
 
 Torches. 
 
 How still the forest is — no wind, 
 Yet the trees move as if a storm were 
 near . . . 
 
 [/« the pause f the noise of distant bat- 
 tle is just audible. 
 And listen! . . a dull murmur, like the 
 sea. . . 
 
 \_She moves back to the edge, and 
 stands rigid with suspense. 
 Fire . . . and a sound of battle. 
 
 Surely they 
 Have had full time by this . . I 
 
 How fares the night? 
 140 
 
MONA 
 
 NiAL 
 
 {seated, unconcernedly, at the foot of the 
 
 rocks) 
 Not long now. In an hour it will be dawn. 
 
 Enya 
 
 {moving about the stage uncontrollably, 
 
 with wild gestures) 
 Many there be shall never see that dawn — 
 God send our own be not among 
 
 them . . . Yonder 
 Beneath that red glow, swords are swung, 
 
 and shouts 
 Go up with groanings, and blood smokes 
 
 and shines 
 In the flare of the battle-fires, and strong 
 
 men fall. 
 And the press wavers — 
 
 [The black bulk of a raven flaps out 
 of the forest and close over her 
 head. She starts and cringes 
 141 
 
MONA 
 
 away, terrified, as the creature 
 turns and flies straight toward 
 the Town, growing smaller 
 against the sky. 
 
 — What was that? 
 
 NiAL 
 
 {quite unmoved) 
 
 A raven. . . 
 Yet — It IS strange : 
 
 [He rises, puzzled, and moves a little 
 up stage, looking after it. 
 
 He should not fly so soon, 
 Before the sun is risen. . . 
 
 Look! He flies 
 Southward, against the light. . . How red 
 
 It is I — 
 As If all the battle had one angry 
 soul. . . 
 
 \_Casually, as he turns away ; a little 
 surprised that Enya pays no at- 
 tention. 
 
 142 
 
MONA 
 
 Mother, the Little People are all gone 
 Under the hills. Our war drove them 
 
 away; 
 They cannot live where tfiere is hating. 
 l^He seats himself as before. In the 
 forest behind Enya a wolf 
 howls, answered by another far 
 away across the plain. She 
 shrinks nervously toward NiAL. 
 
 Enya 
 
 Hush! — 
 Listen . . . that sound there In the for- 
 est. . . 
 
 NiAL 
 
 {unconcerned, as before) 
 
 Wolves. . . 
 {without rising) 
 Yet — It Is strange ! They should not cry 
 
 so late. 
 After the setting of the moon. 
 143 
 
MONA 
 
 Enya 
 (hysterically) 
 
 And still, 
 No tidings! Can the dogs hold out so 
 
 long, 
 Asleep, surprised, outnumbered. . . 
 
 Will the fight 
 Never be done. . ? 
 
 How many, how many of us 
 Whose hearts are struggling yonder watch 
 
 and yearn 
 Through the void, endless hush, feeling 
 
 their faith 
 Bleed away drop by drop and hour by 
 
 hour! 
 How many Roman women shall befoul 
 Their proud hair, hating every sunny day 
 For this night's sake . . . and the long 
 
 nights to come. . , 
 Surely we women are one sisterhood — 
 Men make the nations! 
 144 
 
MONA 
 
 NiAL 
 
 Mother, why do men, 
 Seeking to live more gladly, fight and die? 
 
 Enya 
 
 Men die to slay as women die to bear, 
 Wasting the life we sorrowed giving them 
 To breed more sorrow. . . So they build 
 
 their power, 
 Binding our love to them with cords of 
 pain. . . 
 
 {breaking out again) 
 Oh, I have waited many nights like this. 
 While flesh I bore spilled blood that came 
 
 of me, 
 And the dawn brought the dead home! 
 l^She drops, exhausted, at the foot of 
 the boulder, to the left. The 
 first suggestion of dawn appears: 
 not light, but a tinge of green in 
 the blackness of the shadows, and 
 145 
 
MONA 
 
 a slight pallor of the sky. The 
 red light fades above the battle, 
 and at intervals the voices of 
 birds are heard in the silences. 
 
 NiAL 
 
 This Is more 
 Than I can understand. . . Somehow It 
 
 seems 
 I should be wiser, seeing so much 
 
 pain. . . 
 Is Mona then a woman? 
 
 [Enya does not heed, NiAL rises, 
 crosses to her, and lays a hand on 
 her shoulder, peering at her hid- 
 den face with a child^s un tactful 
 insistence. 
 
 Mother, say ! — 
 
 l^She does not move, and he turns away 
 
 down left, groping for thought. 
 
 She never gave life; she hath taken It. . . 
 146 
 
MONA 
 
 — And Gwynn, loving us all, and dream- 
 ing peace, — 
 Is he a man, the same as other men? 
 
 IHe notices the change in the sky, and 
 tries to interest her in that. 
 Look I The light darkens. 
 
 [Enya starts to her feet and crosses 
 up centre, straining her eyes 
 across the dusk. 
 
 The stars fade. The dawn 
 Is coming. . . 
 
 There a bird wakes — listen I 
 
 Enya 
 
 God! — 
 And still no tidings ! Oh, If Gloom would 
 come — I 
 
 [^There is a crash in the brushwood 
 down the path. A moment later, 
 a man appears, running wildly up 
 the slope — not Gloom, hut a 
 skin-clad Briton breathless, dis' 
 147 
 
MONA 
 
 heveled, and bloody, Enya 
 rushes across to him and catches 
 at his arm. 
 Oh, what news of the battle? What 
 news — 
 
 [The man flings himself free without 
 a word, and crosses down left, at 
 a staggering run. Then seeing 
 NiAL, he turns hack, and scram- 
 bles up the rocks out of sight, 
 
 NiAL 
 
 Fear ! 
 His terror trails behind him like a smoke — 
 He IS mad-afraid. 
 
 Enya 
 
 Woe I Woe I 
 [An older man, wounded, draws him- 
 self up the path. She stops him. 
 What tidings ? How 
 Went the battle? 
 
 [She clutches at his arm. 
 148 
 
MONA 
 
 The Old Man 
 (breathlessly) 
 Nay, I know not — Let me go — 
 We were betrayed — They had been 
 
 warned of us — 
 The fight goes on still — Let me pass — 
 
 Enya 
 {clinging to him) 
 
 Tell me, 
 What of Gloom ? What of Arth ? 
 
 The Old Man 
 
 I know not — dead, 
 Most like — they were among the fore- 
 most — 
 
 Enya 
 
 Mona, 
 The Queen, tell me of her — ? 
 
 The Old Man 
 
 I saw her last 
 149 
 
MONA 
 
 Mounting a ladder, her sword shining, her 
 hair 
 
 Blown backward in the torchlight -— 
 
 Let me go, 
 
 Woman ! — I have told all — 
 
 [He breaks from her, and stumbles 
 away into the forest, up left. 
 All through the ensuing scene, 
 scattered fugitives, men mostly, 
 now and then a woman, scramble 
 up the path, and hurry across and 
 away either into the forest or up 
 the rocks down right. In the 
 pauses are heard the voices of 
 awakening birds. Very slowly 
 the sky pales to a dull flat gray, 
 like the skin of a corpse; and the 
 darkness fades into what is more 
 a sickly weakening of night than 
 any positive daybreak. It is 
 light enough to distinguish facial 
 expression; but there is no sign 
 150 
 
MONA 
 
 yet of sunrise, and the distance is 
 still blank and misty. The 
 greenish tinge of the light makes 
 faces and foliage look unnat- 
 urally colorless, 
 
 NiAL 
 
 He does not know — 
 Mona shall save Britain; Gloom said sol 
 
 was it 
 Not all foretold? 
 
 Enya 
 
 Lost. . ! lost. . I 
 [Gloom stumbles in among the fugi- 
 tives, half dragging, half carry- 
 ing MoNA. He can use only 
 his left arm, for his right is 
 broken near the shoulder, and he 
 is wounded in the side. As he 
 reaches the clear space, he re- 
 leases Mona, who sinks dizzily 
 upon the fallen tree up right, her. 
 151 
 
MONA 
 
 head droops forward almost be- 
 tween her knees, and her arms 
 reach limply outward and down- 
 ward, the left against her left 
 knee, the right hand, still grasp- 
 ing her sword, almost touching 
 the ground: so that the lines of 
 her arms and of her hair falling 
 straight down over her face, sug- 
 gest the Sign of the Name, Her 
 scabbard is gone, her byrny 
 dented and broken, and her white 
 robe stained with blood; but she 
 is unwounded. Gloom totters a 
 pace or two down stage and reels 
 back against a sapling, his right 
 arm hanging useless and his left 
 hand pressed to his side, Enya 
 runs to him and clings about his 
 neck. 
 
 Enya 
 
 Gloom 1 
 152 
 
MONA 
 
 Gloom 
 {fiinging her savagely away) 
 
 OffI . . . My arm! - 
 Hast thou no eyes, woman? 
 
 Enya 
 
 {lamenting , not protesting) 
 
 My son . . . my son I 
 
 Gloom 
 Broken. Let be. It is all over. 
 
 Enya 
 
 Arth — 
 
 Gloom 
 Dead. 
 
 Enya 
 
 {softly) 
 
 I knew It. . . 
 153 
 
 Thy father? — 
 
MONA 
 
 Gloom 
 
 They were awake, 
 
 Under arms, waiting for us — their garri- 
 son 
 
 Swelled to an army, sentries on the plain. 
 
 Fires ready on the walls — what could we 
 do? 
 
 One traitor is more strong than many 
 swords — 
 
 Our Gwynn did his work well I 
 
 Enya 
 
 {trying, with grotesque tenderness^ to quiet 
 htm and lead him away) 
 
 Child, thou art hurt — 
 Come with me — let thy mother bind thy 
 
 wounds — 
 Nay, lean on me. . . 
 
 Gloom 
 
 {pushing her away, hut more gently than 
 
 before) 
 
 154 
 
MONA 
 
 Let be. I have my death 
 
 Already — 
 
 Enya 
 
 (hysterical again) 
 All that remained to me — my son, 
 My husband that was young with me — 
 
 Gloom 
 {with a savage gesture) 
 
 Be still! 
 Thou wilt have time enough for wailing. 
 [MoNA raises herself wearily to a sit- 
 ting position^ pushing back her 
 hair, and looking dully and stead- 
 ily before her. Her grief is 
 sharply contrasted with Enya's 
 hysterical and noisy lamentation. 
 It is the quiet, stony pathos of a 
 great nature crushed beyond the 
 relief of complaint: she seems 
 rather to wonder than to regret. 
 155 
 
MONA 
 
 Her manner is like the manner 
 with which she received the rev- 
 elation of her mission in Act I: 
 a stroke of something too sudden 
 and too great for her to under- 
 stand, 
 
 MONA 
 
 Gloom, 
 Why hast thou brought me here ? I might 
 
 have died 
 Yonder, and not known. 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Any place will serve 
 
 To die in. 
 
 MONA 
 
 {rising, and coming down slowly between 
 Enya and Gloom) 
 They all trusted me — the women 
 Waiting for love, and the sweet-eyed young 
 men, 
 
 156 
 
MONA 
 
 The mothers, and the merry children — all 
 Holding by me to make them happier — 
 And I ... I trusted God. 
 
 NiAL 
 
 Nay, but He wrote 
 A sign upon her, that she should not love, 
 And therefore Rome should die and we be 
 
 free — 
 And It was all promised and prophesied, 
 And thrice beholden In strange dreams. . . 
 
 Is Rome 
 Stronger than God, then? 
 
 MONA 
 
 Oh, the fault was mine — 
 Some momentary deed unwisely done, 
 Or left undone! I slept, and Britain 
 
 fell — 
 I dreamed, and all the blood of those glad 
 
 boys 
 Rushed out upon the ground — I smiled, 
 and made 
 
 157 
 
MONA 
 
 The Sign of the Great Name a mock- 
 ery . . . 
 
 Gloom 
 (sourly) 
 
 Bah! 
 Let us be honest! What has God to 
 
 do? — 
 Success IS all our virtue! Hear the 
 
 truth — 
 I sicken at all these holy melancholies — 
 Thou hadst a vanity, and a girPs dream 
 Of huge deeds and high services; for me, 
 I had a lust for lordship, hated Rome, 
 And hated more that sweet boy-lover of 
 
 thine — 
 His delicate heats and spirit-perfumes; 
 
 then, 
 I too loved thy bright body. Good I We 
 
 strove, 
 As others do, after our own desire — 
 We failed. Well, we shall die. 
 158 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 {forcing herself still to believe in him) 
 
 This Is thy pain 
 Speaking. . . It is not like thyself — 
 
 Enya 
 
 Gloom, Gloom, 
 Thou art a priest ! — 
 
 Gloom 
 
 I was, I am a man 
 Now. Presently I shall be less. . . 
 
 What, shamed 
 At a soul's nakedness ? We dress ourselves 
 In decencies of reason day by day. 
 Till our own hearts hide from us, and we 
 
 march 
 On proudly, leading God. Oh, we believe 
 Our brave words while we speak them! 
 
 no desire 
 For praise in Mona, nor In me for her — 
 All was for Britain ! 
 
 159 
 
MONA 
 
 \_He sinks back, exhausted, on the rocks 
 to the right, overcome by his own 
 hitter violence and his increasing 
 weakness, Enya rushes to him 
 and raises his head, MoNA, 
 sickened by his blasphemy and 
 groping in her own conscience, 
 stands motionless down centre, 
 NiAL, as always utterly uncon- 
 scious in the presence of emotion, 
 crosses up left, looking up into 
 the trees and out across the val- 
 ley. The tops of the distant 
 hills are touched with the first 
 slant of sunlight, and the sky 
 tinges with rose and saffron to- 
 ward the southeast. On the 
 stage, under the shade of the 
 cliffs, there is plenty of light to 
 see by, but the shadows are still 
 purplish, and the colors vague 
 and dull; there is no green in the 
 160 
 
MONA 
 
 foliage yet, nor blue in the 
 sky, 
 
 NiAL 
 
 Mona, see — the dawn 
 Is coming I All my brothers waken. 
 
 [Gloom groans and stirs, MoNA 
 turns to Enya, a new horror o/ 
 self-distrust in her eyes. 
 
 Mona 
 
 Mother, 
 What if he spoke truth ! What if I did all 
 For myself, not for Britain. . . 
 
 Enya 
 
 Child, who doubts thee ? 
 He knew not what he said. 
 
 MONA 
 
 He is a Bard. . . 
 
 I see now : it was Gwynn . . . Gwynn. . . 
 
 [ The sword clasped across her breast. 
 
 There was my fall : 
 
 i6i 
 
MONA 
 
 I knew him faithless — and I loved him ; 
 
 knew 
 Him Roman-born — and saved him ; knew 
 
 his death 
 Meant life to Britain — -and I stayed to 
 
 hear 
 My own blind heart crying for him. God 
 
 knows 
 There was a moment when I gave up all — . 
 All I was given life for, my whole use, 
 Britain, and many hopes, and my great 
 
 dream — 
 Only to feel the glory of his arms 
 Around me In the night, only to see 
 His eyes between me and the stars, only 
 To know I could not struggle I 
 
 NiAL 
 
 Is it wrong 
 To love, then? 
 
 MONA 
 
 {to herself, softly)] 
 
 162 
 
MONA 
 
 One whose face I could not see 
 
 Who strove to snatch away my sword. . . 
 
 [GWYNN enters hurriedly down left in 
 
 his Roman dress. At sight of 
 
 them he pauses astonished, 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Mona I — The fight Is done, then. 
 
 — Art thou safe, 
 Unharmed. . ? 
 
 Gloom 
 What dost thou here, traitor ? 
 
 GwYNN 
 
 {too much concerned with what is to he 
 done to grow excited on his own account: 
 speaking rapidly) 
 
 My guards 
 Fled with the rest. . . I am no traitor ; all 
 This night's blood, If ye would have lis- 
 tened to me 
 
 163 
 
MONA 
 
 I had saved. This ye know now. I am 
 
 still 
 In time to save your own. 
 
 Gloom 
 
 I will yet spoil 
 Thy triumph ! — Give me that sword — 
 [He staggers forward, trying to take 
 the sword from MoNA; hut his 
 strength fails in spite of fury, 
 and he falls hack, half fainting, 
 Enya and NiAL support him. 
 MoNA turns upon Gwynn in a 
 rage of scorn. 
 
 MONA 
 
 Roman, begone 
 Among thy kindred ! — if perchance, even 
 
 there 
 Among that carrion brood, any endure 
 Thy kinship unashamed I Thou save us! 
 — who 
 
 164 
 
MONA 
 
 Would owe thee life? Look on thyself I 
 
 False friend, 
 False Bard, false lover. Thou hast done 
 
 thy work — 
 Leave it I God sickens to hear thee speak 
 
 his name, 
 And men take shame of thy humanity — 
 Why dost thou stand there breeding new 
 
 lies ? Go — 
 Leave us clean air to die in 1 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 {facing her) 
 
 Be silent now . . I 
 There is more shame to thee saying these 
 
 things 
 Than me to hear them. Look at me. . . 
 
 Is this 
 Falsehood? If there were any reason in 
 
 thy rage, 
 Could I endure to hear it — and from 
 thee? 
 
 165 
 
MONA 
 
 Answer me. . . 
 
 [Their eyes pght; hut he knows , and 
 she is only certain. Hers fall 
 first. GwYNN goes on slowly 
 and emphatically. 
 
 Hear one word now that clears all: 
 
 The Governor of Britain is my own 
 
 father — 
 I am his son — dost thou hear? 
 
 [None of them believes. MONA, see- 
 ing instantly all that it would 
 mean, sees also how clever a lie 
 it might he; and her faith in 
 GwYNN has heen hurt to deaths 
 Enya doubts merely because it 
 fits in with everything so per- 
 fectly — a weak mind^s instinc- 
 tive suspicion of finality. Gloom 
 receives it with a sour howl of 
 derision. 
 
 i66 
 
MONA 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Only the son 
 Of the Governor? Only the son? Tell 
 
 the whole truth 1 Say 
 The Governor himself — the Emperor 
 Come from Rome — hail, Caesar I 
 
 Enya 
 
 Nay, It may be. . . 
 
 MONA 
 
 {wearily, turning away from him) 
 
 Gwynn, thou hast lied already many 
 
 times — 
 There is no need of other words. 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 My word 
 Speaks for Rome. Giving it for peace, I 
 
 bind 
 The legions. Binding me, ye loosed them. 
 
 Come 
 With me now to my father, make an end 
 167 
 
MONA 
 
 Of this rebellion ere yet more be slain ; 
 Give peace to Britain, and bind up her 
 wounds. 
 
 MONA 
 
 (monotonouslyy 
 The blood of all our slain cries out on thee, 
 The tears of all our women fall on thee, 
 The groans of all our captives answer thee, 
 Till thy life answer for their lives undone I 
 \_She stands looking blindly into space, 
 the sword clasped to her breast, 
 hearing nothing. 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 For their sake, wait no longer! Thou 
 
 shalt learn 
 If I speak truth — 
 
 NiAL 
 
 I cannot understand 
 All this of truths and traitors ; but I know 
 That Gwynn is good : I know that I 
 i68 
 
MONA 
 
 Enya 
 
 It may be. . . 
 It may be. . . 
 
 Gloom 
 Nay, go kiss thy lover, girl! 
 [MoNA does not seem to hear; and 
 her next three lines are spoken as 
 to herself. That which is rising 
 up in her is the death of Gwynn ; 
 hut the others^ each from his own 
 point of view, mistake it for hes- 
 itation, 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 Mona . . . come! 
 
 MONA 
 
 — One whose face I could not see. . . 
 
 Gwynn 
 Many shall die while we delay — Think 
 
 not 
 Of me; save thine own people! 
 169 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 — One who strove 
 To snatch away my sword. . . 
 
 NiAL 
 
 There is a mist 
 About thy face^ Gwynn — 
 
 MONA 
 — Therefore I smote. . , 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 Nay, then, 
 I dare not tarry longer, even for thee — 
 Guard her, Nial. 
 
 \^He turns away up stage, toward the 
 path. MoNA turns, and takes a 
 step toward him, speaking me- 
 chanically, in a dry voice: her 
 tone and gesture are a ghastly 
 parody of surrender, 
 170 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 Gwynn ... I am very weary. . . 
 
 NiAL 
 
 {springing forward, frightened for the first 
 
 time in his life) 
 
 Mona. . ! 
 Great God ! . . thy shadow I 
 
 [Gwynn turns back to her eagerly, 
 and takes her in his arms. Her 
 head droops forward upon his 
 shoulder, and her left arm slips 
 around his neck; her right hand, 
 holding the sword, hangs at her 
 side. The pose is precisely the 
 same as when Gwynn was 
 wounded ominously in Act I. 
 
 Gwynn 
 
 Love, now all is done 
 And we may yet save all ! 
 
 {She holds him close an instant, then 
 171 
 
MONA 
 
 suddenly brings the sword up 
 with her free hand, and drives it 
 into his throat. He falls, limp 
 in her arms, dying. 
 
 Enya 
 
 What hast thou done — 
 O Child, what hast thou done — I 
 
 [The body of GwYNN slips from 
 Mona's hold, and falls at her 
 feet, just below the rock on the 
 left. She stands over him with 
 the sword. 
 
 MONA 
 
 I have proved myself. 
 There lies my sacrifice. 
 
 NiAL 
 
 For evermore, 
 Thou shalt not see his face. . . 
 
 GWYNN 
 
 Mona ... my father. 
 172 
 
MONA 
 
 [// slight struggle, and he is dead. 
 There is a pause, through which 
 are heard the joyous noises of the 
 forest. The sunlight floods the 
 valley, gleaming white upon 
 the Roman Town, and strikes 
 through the tree-tops from right 
 to left. The stage itself is 
 still in shadow, from the cliffs. 
 Gloom gets to his feet, and 
 totters over to where MoNA 
 stands motionless above the body, 
 gazing into space. 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Nay, 
 Now I believe all I . . Let me look upon 
 
 him. . . 
 At least, he cannot triumph over me. . I 
 I can die now. . . 
 
 Oh, I shall follow him 
 Through many lives until I find him — yea, 
 173 
 
MONA 
 
 Standing before the very face of God — 
 And smite his smiling mouth ! 
 
 [He turns back to his place, feebly. 
 
 NiAL 
 
 For evermore 
 He cannot answer. 
 
 Enya 
 
 Let him be ; by this 
 He has paid all. 
 
 Gloom 
 
 (turning upon her, as he is about to sink 
 upon the rocks to the right, with a last 
 outburst of logical anger) 
 
 Paid ? By his death ? Ay, so — > 
 Then for what evil must I pay with mine ? 
 Which of us wrought this ruin, I or he — - 
 My hate or his love, his peace or my war? 
 How should we two deserve alike, whose 
 hearts 
 
 174- 
 
MONA 
 
 Opposed like East and West? The shame 
 
 of one 
 Honors the other — See now our reward : 
 Both dead, both brought to shame, both 
 
 overthrown — 
 Behold, O God, thy justice ! 
 
 \_He raises his arms above his head in 
 a furious gesture that travesties 
 the Sign of the Name, reels, and 
 falls hack fainting upon the 
 rocks, MoNA neither sees nor 
 hears. As Enya is bending over 
 Gloom, Nial comes down a lit- 
 tle, looking curiously at a point 
 in the air seven or eight feet 
 above the body of Gwynn. 
 
 Nial 
 
 Mother, look — 
 Is Gwynn quite dead? He is not far 
 away. . . 
 
 175 
 
MONA 
 
 Enya 
 {turns, startled and glances at the body, 
 then speaks with the irritation of fright) 
 Fool, have I not seen death enough to 
 
 know — ? 
 He IS mere earth, I tell thee — 
 
 NiAL 
 
 Look — his shadow- 
 Shines in the air above him, like a mist 
 Over the moon. . . See, close above us — 
 
 there — 
 Bound to his body with a golden chain. 
 And shimmering like the wind above a 
 
 fire — 
 He seems to listen and to wait. . 
 
 [The others, tense with horror, are 
 gazing where he points, hut see- 
 ing nothing. There is a short 
 pause. 
 The body of Gwynn lies just below 
 the rock on the left, MoNA stand- 
 176 
 
MONA 
 
 ing above and a little to left of it. 
 NiAL is up centre, Gloom lying 
 hack against the rocks on the 
 right, and Enya below and 
 further to the right. In the 
 hush, the rhythm of the Roman 
 march, heard in Act II, begins to 
 be heard: at first very softly, 
 then gradually louder and nearer. 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Listen. . . 
 
 MONA 
 
 A murmur of many voices, like a storm 
 Over the sea. . . 
 
 Enya 
 
 {crossing up centre, and looking over the 
 cliff) 
 
 The legions ! 
 
 177 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 — And a sound 
 Of men marching to battle. . . 
 
 l^She moves to the centre of the stage, 
 looking up left, to the head of 
 the path. NiAL goes up left. 
 Gloom lies still upon the rocks. 
 The Roman music grows louder 
 and louder. 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Save yourselves — 
 There is yet time. I wait here. 
 
 Enya 
 
 What have we 
 To save? 
 
 Nial 
 There is a cloud over the dawn. . . 
 
 MONA 
 
 Forest and cloud and murmuring of the 
 sea. . . 
 
 178 
 
MONA 
 
 .Surely my dreams remember. . . 
 
 [^The sunlight, which has darkened 
 while she spoke, clears; and the 
 light striking over the cliffs, fills 
 the whole stage with a blaze of 
 direct sunlight. 
 
 Enya 
 
 I can see them 
 Winding up the long pathway from the 
 
 plain, 
 A multitude of spears. 
 
 [A Briton, with an arrow through 
 him, runs up the path, stumbles 
 down right, and falls dead at the 
 foot of the rocks, just above the 
 curtain. 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Welcome, wolves I 
 l^The stage fills with Roman soldiers, 
 entering by the path on the right. 
 Most of them are legionaries in 
 179 
 
MONA 
 
 their panoply; a few archers. 
 Gloom and Nial are surrounded 
 and made prisoners at once, 
 Enya retreats down ri^ht, as the 
 soldiers press forward. MoNA 
 remains left centre. Among the 
 last, the Governor enters, and 
 steps up right, Gwynn's body, 
 from where he stands, is hidden 
 by the boulder. The soldiers 
 pay no attention to it; a corpse 
 more or less does not concern 
 them, 
 
 MONA 
 
 {as the soldiers march in) 
 
 Now, 
 The end comes. . . 
 
 The Governor 
 Guard that woman ! 
 [MoNA is surrounded by soldiers. 
 He looks from her to the others, 
 1 80 
 
MONA 
 
 Where is he 
 Whom ye call Gwynn? 
 
 NiAL 
 
 Yonder — above himself. . . 
 
 Gloom 
 {relishingly) ' 
 
 There is a Roman spy here. He is dead. 
 
 The Governor 
 Dead I — 
 
 [Coming down centre, he sees the 
 body. The soldiers turn the face 
 upward. He stands looking. 
 
 Gloom 
 Past rewarding! 
 
 The Governor 
 
 It is he. . . 
 {savagely) 
 
 Who hath done 
 This thing ? 
 
 i8i 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 It was I. 
 
 The Governor 
 
 Thou I A woman. . . 
 
 MONA 
 
 One 
 That might have been a woman. 
 
 The Governor 
 {softly) 
 
 Be thou sure 
 Of paying for this blood. . . 
 
 Gloom 
 
 Since he has paid, 
 What matter? He betrayed us. He is 
 
 dead. 
 Thou hast thy triumph. Eat it. 
 
 The Governor 
 (^with sudden fierceness) 
 
 Dogs, ye have slain 
 182 
 
MONA 
 
 Your own last hope of mercy — the one 
 
 soul 
 Roman-born that had care for you. These 
 
 years 
 He hath made your peace with Rome, won 
 
 back for you 
 Old liberties, given you the strength to 
 
 dream 
 Of new conspiracy! But for his faith, 
 I should have broken you between my hands 
 In the beginning. Day by day, I spared 
 The sword, watching your fools' rebellion 
 
 boil 
 Unpunished. He defended you; he died 
 Striving to save your miserable lives 
 From your own folly I I have said. 
 
 \_His grief breaking through his anger. 
 
 My son. . . 
 My son. . I 
 
 MONA 
 {slowly, in a dry voice) 
 
 Thy son! — Who art thou ? 
 183 
 
MONA 
 
 [The Governor, still gazing at 
 Gwynn's face and fighting for 
 self-control, pays no heed; it is 
 the soldiers who answer in a fierce 
 and gathering murmur. 
 
 The Soldiers 
 
 Governor 
 Of Britain — Governor and lord for 
 Rome I 
 
 Enya 
 
 O Child, what hast thou done? 
 
 The Governor 
 
 She shall have time 
 To learn — 
 
 \^A soldier gives him the sword, which 
 has been taken from MoNA. 
 He takes it mechanically , and 
 stands still gazing at Gwynn's 
 hody, 
 
 184 
 
MONA 
 
 MONA 
 
 {to herself) 
 So that was God's voice, after all! 
 That weakness, that strange fear of 
 
 Gwynn's glad eyes. 
 That warm pain In my blood answering 
 
 him, 
 That little, foolish whisper in my heart 
 All night long, that I put away from me, 
 Smothering It with huge dreams I That 
 
 was all 
 God asked of me — only to drink my joy, 
 
 Only to be a woman, only to cease — 
 
 From struggling, rest so, and be drowsy- 
 glad 
 Like a child comforted ! It was too slight 
 A service for great ends — too small, too 
 
 sweet — 
 Any one could have done so much! 
 
 [JVith gradually increasing passion, 
 turning to the others. 
 
 Ah, Gloom 1 
 185 
 
MONA 
 
 And thou, Mother, in dream-lore deeply 
 
 wise — 
 Thou who hast known a child's lips on thy 
 
 breast 
 And life beginning in the dark . . . and 
 
 thou, 
 Nial, whose blind heart makes our wisdom 
 
 vain — 
 Could ye not tell me how great dreams pass 
 
 by 
 As a storm blows down the wind, while 
 
 beauty grows 
 Day by day out of a thousand littlenesses, 
 As the rain swells the flood and fills the sea, 
 Till all things take one answer? — 
 
 [^Coming out of her inspiration — 
 more quietly, awakening to the 
 realities about her, 
 
 I might have died 
 Yonder, and not known. 
 
 — See, how Earth holds up 
 Her freshness to the summer, and the light 
 i86 
 
MONA 
 
 Laughs over living green, and the birds are 
 
 glad, 
 And the sweet blossoms brighten In the sun. 
 And all the bitter beauty of the day 
 Makes merry with my sorrow — And I go 
 To walk alive among dead hours, and see 
 Pitiless faces and the mirth of men 
 Whose eyes arc evil, and be fawned upon 
 By strange hands ... for I cannot even 
 
 keep 
 My faith to him that died because of mc, 
 Nor in a clean death lay my body down 
 Beside his body. . . I must bear my time, 
 Having done no good thing, remembering 
 
 all — 
 And there will be so many other days, 
 So many other days. . . 
 
 [She turns from Gwynn to The Gov- 
 ernor, quietly. 
 
 Give me the sword — 
 It Is mine. . . 
 
 [Misunderstanding her purpose, He 
 187 
 
MONA 
 
 steps hack, motioning to the sol- 
 ^diers to restrain her. She looks 
 him in the face almost with a 
 smile. 
 
 Dost thou think I can still fear? 
 I loved him . . . and I killed him. . . 
 
 Bear with me 
 A little. 
 
 [^She takes the sword, and kneels down 
 by Gwynn's body, laying it 
 across his breast. 
 Take the sword now. It is thine. 
 Thou hast done well for Britain. 
 
 For myself, 
 I have done only what I must have done, 
 Being myself, holding by mine own sight 
 And mine own blindness. I have sought 
 
 beyond 
 Love, and above beauty, turning away 
 From God, to point what way the world 
 
 should go. 
 Scorning my life because I found it fair, 
 i88 
 
MONA 
 
 Following the white fire of endeavor down 
 Under the last horizon, where stars fail 
 And the sea takes me, and the night ends 
 
 all. 
 And the brave deeds I was too brave to do 
 Slumber, forgotten. . . 
 
 [She lays her hands upon Gwynn's, 
 bending over him. 
 
 Love, I could not be 
 A woman, loved and loving, nor endure 
 Motherhood and the wise ordinary joys 
 Of day by day. . . All that I had to give 
 I gave thee. . . I have known thy heart 
 
 . . . Farewell. 
 
 [She bends down and kisses him on 
 the forehead. 
 Forgive. . . 
 
 [She rises, and stands among the sol- 
 diers. 
 Do your will now. 
 [ They hind her hands. 
 189 
 
MONA 
 
 I have had dreams — 
 Only great dreams. . . 
 
 A woman would have won. 
 
 190 
 
30m-6,'14: 
 
i^fj"^ 
 
 IB 3i7C3 
 
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