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The Works of Edgar Allan Poe – Volume 5
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II
ROME. A Lady’s apartment, with a window open and looking into a garden.
Lalage, in deep mourning, reading at a table on which lie some books and a
hand mirror. In the background Jacinta (a servant maid) leans carelessly
upon a chair.
Lal. [Lalage] Jacinta! is it thou?
Jac. [Jacinta] (pertly.) Yes, Ma’am, I’m here.
Lal. I did not know, Jacinta, you were in waiting.
Sit down! – Let not my presence trouble you —
Sit down! – for I am humble, most humble.
Jac. (aside.) ‘Tis time.
(Jacinta seats herself in a side-long manner upon the chair, resting her
elbows upon the back, and regarding her mistress with a contemptuous look.
Lalage continues to read. )
Lal. “It in another climate, so he said,
“Bore a bright golden flower, but not i’ this soil!”
(pauses – turns over some leaves, and resumes)
“No lingering winters there, nor snow, nor shower —
“But Ocean ever to refresh mankind
“Breathes the shrill spirit of the western wind.”
O, beautiful! – most beautiful – how like
To what my fevered soul doth dream of Heaven!
O happy land (pauses) She died! – the maiden died!
A still more happy maiden who couldst die!
Jacinta!
(Jacinta returns no answer, and Lalage presently resumes.)
Again! – a similar tale
Told of a beauteous dame beyond the sea!
Thus speaketh one Ferdinand in the words of the play —
“She died full young” – one Bossola answers him —
“I think not so – her infelicity
“Seemed to have years too many” – Ah luckless lady!
Jacinta! (still no answer)
Here ‘s a far sterner story,
But like – oh, very like in its despair —
Of that Egyptian queen, winning so easily
A thousand hearts – losing at length her own.
She died. Thus endeth the history – and her maids
Lean over and weep – two gentle maids
With gentle names – Eiros and Charmion!
Rainbow and Dove! – Jacinta!
Jac. (pettishly.) Madam, what is it?
Lal. Wilt thou, my good Jacinta, be so kind
As go down in the library and bring me
The Holy Evangelists.
Jac. Pshaw! (exit.)
Lal. If there be balm
For the wounded spirit in Gilead it is there!
Dew in the night time of my bitter trouble
Will there be found – “dew sweeter far than that
Which hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill.”
(re-enter Jacinta, and throws a volume on the table.)
There, ma’am, ‘s the book. Indeed she is very troublesome. (aside.)
Lal. (astonished.) What didst thou say, Jacinta? Have I done aught
To grieve thee or to vex thee? – I am sorry.
For thou hast served me long and ever been
Trust-worthy and respectful. (resumes her reading.)
Jac. I can’t believe
She has any more jewels – no – no – she gave me all. (aside.)
Lal. What didst thou say, Jacinta? Now I bethink me
Thou hast not spoken lately of thy wedding.
How fares good Ugo? – and when is it to be?
Can I do aught? – is there no farther aid
Thou needest, Jacinta?
Jac. Is there no farther aid!
That’s meant for me. (aside) I’m sure, madam, you need not
Be always throwing those jewels in my teeth.
Lal. Jewels! Jacinta, – now indeed, Jacinta,
I thought not of the jewels.
Jac. Oh! perhaps not!
But then I might have sworn it. After all,
There ‘s Ugo says the ring is only paste,
For he ‘s sure the Count Castiglione never
ROME. A Lady’s apartment, with a window open and looking into a garden.
Lalage, in deep mourning, reading at a table on which lie some books and a
hand mirror. In the background Jacinta (a servant maid) leans carelessly
upon a chair.
Lal. [Lalage] Jacinta! is it thou?
Jac. [Jacinta] (pertly.) Yes, Ma’am, I’m here.
Lal. I did not know, Jacinta, you were in waiting.
Sit down! – Let not my presence trouble you —
Sit down! – for I am humble, most humble.
Jac. (aside.) ‘Tis time.
(Jacinta seats herself in a side-long manner upon the chair, resting her
elbows upon the back, and regarding her mistress with a contemptuous look.
Lalage continues to read. )
Lal. “It in another climate, so he said,
“Bore a bright golden flower, but not i’ this soil!”
(pauses – turns over some leaves, and resumes)
“No lingering winters there, nor snow, nor shower —
“But Ocean ever to refresh mankind
“Breathes the shrill spirit of the western wind.”
O, beautiful! – most beautiful – how like
To what my fevered soul doth dream of Heaven!
O happy land (pauses) She died! – the maiden died!
A still more happy maiden who couldst die!
Jacinta!
(Jacinta returns no answer, and Lalage presently resumes.)
Again! – a similar tale
Told of a beauteous dame beyond the sea!
Thus speaketh one Ferdinand in the words of the play —
“She died full young” – one Bossola answers him —
“I think not so – her infelicity
“Seemed to have years too many” – Ah luckless lady!
Jacinta! (still no answer)
Here ‘s a far sterner story,
But like – oh, very like in its despair —
Of that Egyptian queen, winning so easily
A thousand hearts – losing at length her own.
She died. Thus endeth the history – and her maids
Lean over and weep – two gentle maids
With gentle names – Eiros and Charmion!
Rainbow and Dove! – Jacinta!
Jac. (pettishly.) Madam, what is it?
Lal. Wilt thou, my good Jacinta, be so kind
As go down in the library and bring me
The Holy Evangelists.
Jac. Pshaw! (exit.)
Lal. If there be balm
For the wounded spirit in Gilead it is there!
Dew in the night time of my bitter trouble
Will there be found – “dew sweeter far than that
Which hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill.”
(re-enter Jacinta, and throws a volume on the table.)
There, ma’am, ‘s the book. Indeed she is very troublesome. (aside.)
Lal. (astonished.) What didst thou say, Jacinta? Have I done aught
To grieve thee or to vex thee? – I am sorry.
For thou hast served me long and ever been
Trust-worthy and respectful. (resumes her reading.)
Jac. I can’t believe
She has any more jewels – no – no – she gave me all. (aside.)
Lal. What didst thou say, Jacinta? Now I bethink me
Thou hast not spoken lately of thy wedding.
How fares good Ugo? – and when is it to be?
Can I do aught? – is there no farther aid
Thou needest, Jacinta?
Jac. Is there no farther aid!
That’s meant for me. (aside) I’m sure, madam, you need not
Be always throwing those jewels in my teeth.
Lal. Jewels! Jacinta, – now indeed, Jacinta,
I thought not of the jewels.
Jac. Oh! perhaps not!
But then I might have sworn it. After all,
There ‘s Ugo says the ring is only paste,
For he ‘s sure the Count Castiglione never
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