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Carlotta, a play by Olive Tilford Dargan

Act 3 - Scene 1

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_ ACT III SCENE I

Scene I: Before the Imperial Theatre. Brilliant lights.
Crowd confusedly assembled. All talking
.

Shouts.
Long live the Empire!

Citizen.
O you mob, you puppet throat, that whistles as you're squeezed!

A Mob Orator.
My friends, to-day we gloriously celebrate the
birthday of the most glorious empire--

Cit.
Long live the Republic! Hail to Juarez!

Voices.
To dungeon with him! The traitor! Tear him to pieces!

(Guards dash upon citizen and drag him off)

1st Officer.
Don't tell me the Republic is dead when a man is
willing to die just to give one shout for it.

2d Officer.
Three-fourths of the Mexicans have hearts of that
color. But the Empire stands. Miramon is a miracle. How
does he manage it?

1st Off.
He understands the use of the bayonet. As our friend
over the water says, you can do anything with bayonets
but sit on them.

2d Off.
Isn't this a rabble? Motley's the only wear in
Maximilian's court. He might succeed in running this
country if so many people hadn't come along to help
him do it. You ask a French question and you get a
Dutch answer. You give an order in Prussian and it's
obeyed in Irish,--

Voices.
He comes! Make way! Make way! Hail to Maximilian!

Chief Guard.
Back, all of you! The Emperor will greet you yonder!
We've orders to clear the plaza! Back! Back! His carriage
stops! Go, get your places! Out! out!

(Guards drive mob out)

1st Guard.
If all the Empire's birthdays are to be like this I
hope it will never come of age. It's work, I tell you! I'm
dripping like a squeezed cloud!

2d Guard.
If it had pleased the Empire to spend a little of the
money it has wasted to-day for the widows and orphans it
has made--

1st Guard.
Sh! We're paid for our muscle, not our opinions.
(Shouts outside)

2d Guard.
And the mob is paid for its lungs!

1st Guard.
Yes. Miramon sees to that.

2d Guard.
Only the Emperor's carriage approaches the door?

1st Guard.
None but his.

2d Guard.
If I were he I wouldn't make such a glittering show of
myself in that Milan carriage--all gold and silver and
tortoise shell, and an angel at every corner--while there
are so many hearts breaking in sound of it.

1st Guard.
Ph! He knows nothing of the breaking hearts! Miramon
sees to that.

2d Guard.
He'll have to know soon, or Juarez will tell him in
the capital.

1st Guard.
Not a word! On your life! (Shouts without) Here they
are! By Jesu! The fools have taken the mules from the
carriage and draw it themselves! Now I wonder how much a
head Miramon pays for that!

(Enter rabble of shouting citizens drawing carriage in
which sit the Emperor and Empress. They are followed by a
brilliant party of ladies and gentlemen. General and Madam
Miramon, Princess de Varela, Prince and Princess Zichy,
Prince and Princess Salm-Salm, Lopez, Count Charles,
Marquez, Archbishop Labastida, Estrada, Berzabal, and
others
)

Max.
(To citizens)

My friends, though I protest against this honor,
I thank you from my heart for such kind proof
Of your affection. (Alights)

Voices.
Long live Maximilian!

One of the rabble, awkward and ignorant.
Long live the President of the Empire!

Max.
(Smiling)

I've no objection to that title, friend, but I
fear it would be criticised in Europe.

(Crowd passes out shouting and dragging carriage)

Max.
(To Carlotta, as he looks at theatre) A
noble building! Fair and magnificent!

Car.
How yonder gardens gleam beneath the lights
Like some soft dream of worlds we do not know!

Max.
And all is yours, my sweet,--all planned by you!
O love, you shall be mistress of a land
The fairest ever smiled up to the sun!
What say you, Charles? Does not this hour repay
Even the sacrifice of Miramar?

Car.
(Smiling)

Nay, he longs still for the old nooks and books.

Char.
Let me admit it. This mistress Pleasure, sir,
Though she is fair is not so wondrous fair
As goddess Knowledge. Beautiful as bride
To her lord's eye is she to worshippers,
Who seek and woo her till she yieldeth up
Her locked virginity--the Truth!

Max.
(Affectionately)

Ay, Charles,
Get knowledge if thou canst, and yet despair not,
For none so poor but virtue may be his;
And though your knowledge is earth's silver key
That opens man's and nature's heart,
'Tis golden virtue opens Heaven and shows
The God among his stars.... But, come, dear friends!
Pleasure is a true goddess too. We'll show
Her fair respect.

(All go into theatre but Charles, who drops back unnoticed)

Char.
He constantly unmasks me
And knows it not. Knowledge! 'Tis withered leaves
Amid a world of dewy boughs! Knowledge!
To one school will I go--one book I'll read,
The school of love, the page of woman's eye,
And I'll know more than sages and divines
Who study stars and Scripture!...
'For none so poor but virtue may be his'
O noble soul, had I been true to thee
I now could open thy deceived eyes.
Crime seals my lips. I can but pray
This empire built on blood may stand. We are
The creatures of our deeds, more bound to them
Than slave to master, for the terms of service
Are fast indentured in the soul and know
No razure!... But I will find Aseffa! Then,
Though sin should set a darkness on my life
To draw each night out to a winter's length
That constant storms from sallow leaf to green,
Still love's sweet lamp shall light me! In my heart
'T will be as day!

(Enter Aseffa veiled, her dress covered with a black
cloak. An attendant following. She tries to cross over to
side entrance of theatre. A guard stops her
)

Asef.
I am a singer.

Guard.
Show
Your pass.

Asef.
Here, sir.

(Guard signs for her to pass on. She sees Charles
and stops. Steps before him, throwing back her veil
)

Asef.
You swore to save him!

Char.
You!
Aseffa! Blest--

Asef.
You swore it!

Char.
And would have died
To keep my oath could I have kept it dying.

Asef.
The Emperor refused you? (He bows his head) Demon! Oh!

(Turns to go, moaning)

Char.
(Aside)

I lose her!... Stay! Is there no hope for grief?

Asef.
Not mine! Can you not read it here?

Char.
Too well.
Thy sorrow is a veil through which thy beauty
Burns like a shrouded sun.

Asef.
You pity me?

Char.
As Heaven knows!

Asef.
Then you will help me, sir?

Char.
I'll give my life to do it!

Asef.
Ah, you will?
Then get me access to the Emperor.

Char.
O sweet Aseffa, you ask a miracle,
And I am sadly mortal.

Asef.
I knew! I knew!
My misery is your plaything!

Char.
His ministers
So hedge him with their care--

Asef.
O spare excuse!
But I shall see him, sir! Ay, face to face!

Char.
Why would you see him? He can not call the dead.

Asef.
The dead! Thou hast but daggers for me! Ah!

Char.
Aseffa--

Asef.
Yes, I'll see him! What think you?
Should I go shouting 'murderer' through that hall,
Would he arise and answer to his name?

Char.
You're mad, Aseffa!

Asef.
Thank Heaven I am! 'T would be
The shame of woman to know all that I know
And not be mad!

Char.
You must not go in there.

Asef.
(Fiercely)

Must not!

(Suddenly calm)
Nay, sir! Why see, I go to sing
A welcome to the noble Emperor.

(Throws back her cloak)
As this dark cloak now hides my gay apparel,
So shall my gay demeanor hide my woe.

Char.
You would not harm the Emperor?

Asef.
No need!
Yon moon is worshipped for her borrowed gold,
Though charred and cold without a leaf to dower
Her black sterility. So Maximilian.
Napoleon's favor is the sun that gilds
His worthless crown. But now the French are going--

Char.
What?

Asef.
Ah! The French are going.

Char.
No!

Asef.
And Maximilian shall fade to air,
Unheeded as the moon no eye could find
Without her sun!

Char.
But hearts can live and love
Though Maximilian falls.

Asef.
Can live--and love!
You torture me!

Char.
Forgive me. But the share
Must rip the glebe before the corn may spring.

Asef.
What do you mean, cold Austrian?

Char.
Austrian! No!
Your southern sun has poured into my veins
A life that makes me new! I feel as you
Those throbs that shake the stars until they fall
Into the heart and make it heaven! My lips
Can move toward lips as haste rose-gloried clouds
To swoon into the sun!

Asef.
Ah, yes--I know--
You told me that you loved. But why say this
To one who has lost all?

Char.
I'd have you learn
That you must live, Aseffa, and life for you
Means love. Your eyes, your lips, your hands, your hair,
Like coiled sweetness of the night, and all
Your swaying, melting body, gather love
As roses gather smiles, as waves draw down
The heart-flood of the moon and hold it deep
And trembling.

Asef.
Sir, your roses, waves, and smiles,
Are poet-nothings. You play with them as shells,
Stirring chance colors for an idle eye.
It is your way of saying, is it not,
That I shall love again?

Char.
You must! you must!

Asef.
Such words are like bright raindrops falling in
Another world. They glitter, but I hear
No sound, grief has so closed my ears. Take back
Your comfort. You would be kind, but noble count,
You talk of what a man can never know,--
A woman's sorrow for a husband loved.
So high no height can reach it, so great and deep
The sea can not embrace it, and yet her heart
Can hold it all. O strangest of all love,
That makes her rather stoop in beggar rags
To kiss the happy dust where his foot pressed
Than from a throne lean down to give her lips
Unto a kneeling king!

Char.
Aseffa, grief
Is not for you. You must--you must be happy!
The shy and tender Dawn creeps up in fear
That Night has laid some blight upon the world,
But finding all is well, steps forth, and lo!
Out of her courage the great sun is born.
So doth the heart look outward after grief
To find the world all dark, but nay, the light
Is more of heaven than it was before,
Because a face is shining from the clouds.
You dim your loved one's eyes in paradise
With your earth-tears. He mourns your splendor paled,--
Though 't must be beautiful to the last tint,
As sunset clouds that bear the heart of day
Into the night.

Asef.
You but offend my grief.
Sir, keep your flattery for her you love!

Char.
I flatter thee? It is not possible!
Who dares to add fire to the sun, or bring
The Spring a flower? Be angry if you will.
The morning's eye is not more glorious
Rising above a storm! I flatter thee!
When but to praise thee as thou art would put
A blush on Poesy that ne'er has rhymed
As I would speak! E'en thy defects would make
Another fair, and were they merchantable
Women would buy thy faults to adorn themselves!
O, sweet--

Asef.
(Shrinking in horror)

What do you mean?

Char.
(Seizing her hands)

You know!
O, all my life has been but dreams of you,
And when I saw you first, my love!--my love!--
As lightning makes the midnight landscape speak
The language of the day, your beauty flashed
O'er all my years and made their meaning clear!
'Twas you made sweet the song of every bird,
'Twas you I found in every book I loved,
'Twas you that gave a soul to every star!
I can not speak it! Kiss me once--but once--
And you will understand!

Asef.
What thing is this?
It is not man, for man respecteth sorrow,
Nor brute, for it doth speak!

Char.
O look not down!
Thou canst not guard thee! Every silken sweep
Of thine eyes' soft defence but whets assault!
You shall not go! You are the element
In which I breathe! Go from me and I fall
A lifeless thing! Aseffa, pity me!
'Tis I who die, not you! (Drops her hands and kneels)
O blame me not
That I must worship here--

Asef.
Ah, Rafael,
I'll live an hour to pray this wrong away
Before I meet thine eyes!

(Goes. Charles grasps her cloak)
Beast! Claw me not!

(Goes in. Charles gazes after her in a bewildered way.
Tries to steady himself, and goes into theatre by main
entrance
)

(CURTAIN) _

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