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Yolanda of Cyprus

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Год написания книги
2017
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A portion in this castle. Is it so?

Smarda. My lady is of Venice.

Hassan. Strike her, God.

Her smirk admits it.

Smarda. Touch me not!

Hassan. I'll wring

Your tongue out sudden, if it now has lies.

What of your lady and lord Renier?

Smarda. Off!

Renier enters behind, with Moro.

Hassan. Your lady and lord Renier, I say!

What do they purpose?

Smarda. Fool-born! look around.

Hassan. Not till —

Smarda. Lord Renier, help.

Hassan. What do you say?

[Turns, and stares amazed.

A fool I am …

Renier. Where is my wife?

Hassan. Why, she …

This slave stung me to pry.

Renier. Where is my wife?

Hassan. A moment since she left – the women with her.

She asked for your return.

Renier. And wherefore did?

Hassan. You jeer me.

Renier. Answer.

Hassan. Have you not been gone?

Renier. Not – overfar. Where is Yolanda? – Well?

No matter; find my chamber till I come.

Of my arrival, too, no word to any.

[Hassan goes, confused.

You, Moro, have deferred me; now, I move.

Whether it is suspicion eats in me,

Mistrust and fret and doubt – of whom I say not,

Or whether desire, and unsubduable,

To see Amaury sceptred – I care not.

[To Smarda.

Slave, to your lady who awaits me, say

I'm here and now have chosen.

Moro. Do not!

Renier. Chosen.

[Smarda goes.

None can be great who will not hush his heart

To hold a sceptre, and Amaury must.

He is Lusignan and his lineage

Will drown in him Yolanda's loveliness.

Moro. It will not.

Renier. Then at least I shall uncover

What this Venetian hints.
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