Semiramis and Other Plays Part 62

Mrs. C. Lies! All lies! Every one of them! He is the soul of honor! Already Virginia loves him like a brother! I trust her instinct! I trust my own!

Mr. C. O, I'm not arguin', I'm just doin'. You can't turn him out, of course. Wouldn't do it myself. n.o.body'll ever say Nelse Clemm was an inhospitable dog! But I can look out for Virginia, and I will. She goes with me now, or I'm done with you and yours--and you know that mortgage ain't paid off yet.

Mrs. C. Yes, she shall go. She ought to be in school and again I thank you for helping us. But you are wronging my nephew,--one of the n.o.blest of men. You don't know him!

Mr. C. It's plain enough _you_ don't!

Mrs. C. Has Mr. Brackett--

Mr. C. Mr. Brackett is a guest in my house. Now, Maria, say what you please. (Virginia comes out of cottage carrying a small satchel) That's a good girl! We'll fix up a fine trunk and send it after her, won't we, mother?

Vir. (Putting her arms about her mother's neck) He--wasn't in the orchard, mama. Won't you say goodbye to him for me?

Mr. C. Come, come now! (Leads her away) Don't worry, Maria. I'll drive you over to Bowville every Sunday Doctor Barlow doesn't preach. (Half turning) By the by, I saw him down the lane at the widow Simson's. Reckon he'll be along here pretty soon. Seems to be on his widow's route to-day. Good morning! (Exeunt)

Mrs. C. (Looking after them) I shall go to her myself to-morrow.

My little daughter! A stately woman now, but always my little daughter! (Starts into the house, pausing on steps) Poor Edgar! How he is misjudged! (Goes in)

(Zurie, Tat following, comes out of the side door and sets to work digging up a shrub)

Zu. (Muttering) Wha' Mis' Clemm gwine ter say ter all dem young ladies comin' heah fo' de picnic? An' who gwine ter eat dem pies Zurie been two days makin'? An' sech a poun'

cake! It ought to be a weddin' cake, deed it ought! (Bony comes out of kitchen with a knife in his hand) Heah, n.i.g.g.ah, gimme up dat knife an' don' be so slow-back! Dis heah bush done grow an' bloom till yo' get heah!

(Enter Poe, left, singing)

Old winter is a lie As every spring doth prove, And care is born to die If we but let in love--

Hey Mum Zurie, what are you doing?

Zu. I's diggin', honey.

Poe. That rosebay is the most graceful shrub in the yard. You kill one leaf of it, if you dare!

Zu. Miss Virginia she say how her bru'r Edgah lub dis heah tree, an' she want it under her window.

Poe. Oh! Can't I help you, Zurie? Tenderly now!

Zu. Miss Babylam' ax me to move it yistiddy but I don't git no time, an' I ain' gwine to leab it now jes cause she's gone away.

Poe. Gone away?

Zu. O Lawd, I forgot you don' know! Why, honey, Mars Nelson he come jes now an' frisk her off to school. Zip! an'

Babylam' gone! An' law, ef you seen dat po' chile cryin'!

Poe. She cried, Zurie?

Zu. Deed she did, and she ax me twenty hundred times to tell her bru'r Edgah goodbye.

Poe. Virginia gone?

Zu. I done tol' yo, Mars Edgah! Sho' yo' don't think ol' Zurie know how ter tell lies, does yo', honey?

Poe. No, Zurie, I know she is gone. The birds have all stopped singing.

Zu. Law, Mars Edgah, dey jes be a chipperin'! Heah dat now?

Poe. That is not a song, Zurie. It is a wail from Stygian boughs.

Zu. O, yo' go way!

Poe. Gone! I'll not permit it! My aunt must bring her back!

(Hurries into house)

Zu. Wha' make him ac' so now? An' wha' make Miss Babylam' cry hussef sick when she's gwine away ter be a fine lady? Mars Nelson he mighty good to gib her eddication, but true fo'

sho he might jes' well gib it to my Tatermally fer all de thanks he's gittin'. Ol' Zurie reckon it a sin to cry ober de goodness ob G.o.d!

(Mrs. Clemm and Poe come out of cottage, both disturbed)

Poe. But, aunt, how are we going to live without her?

Mrs. C. My dear Edgar, we must not let our affections root so deep in mortal things.

Poe. Mortal? Virginia mortal! She is a sister to Psyche, immortal as the breath that blew her into beauteous bloom!

Mrs. C. While I am glad, my son, to see you so devoted to your sister--

Poe. Sister! Thank Heaven she is not my sister! Aunt, Virginia must be my wife!

Mrs. C. (Bewildered) Are you mad, Edgar?

Poe. No. Sane at last. I have been mad until now. I have drunk loneliness and death. Here I breathe, grateful, glad as a flower! My breast swells and falls as a bird's throat with happy song! O, aunt, help me to accept this fair new life--the only real life! Do not drive me back to gloom and the devils! Give me your Virginia!

Mrs. C. A child, Edgar! A child!

Poe. To you--only to you. She has her full dower of beauty--womanhood's portion.

Mrs. C. She has a right to her education. I can not wrong my child.

Poe. I will teach her--teach her more than she will ever learn at the great mess table of knowledge where the genius must take his treacle and the blacksmith his ambrosia! O, aunt, you will give her to me?

Mrs. C. Edgar, I love you dearly,--but--my little girl--my Virginia--

Poe. (Bitterly) There is a difference then. She is yours, I am not.

Mrs. C. Do not be cruel. I am a distracted mother!

Poe. My dear aunt!