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    Yolanda of Cyprus
    Yolanda of Cyprus
    Yolanda of Cyprus
    Ebook131 pages1 hour

    Yolanda of Cyprus

    By Cale Young Rice

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateApr 1, 2009
    Yolanda of Cyprus

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      Book preview

      Yolanda of Cyprus - Cale Young Rice

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Yolanda of Cyprus, by Cale Young Rice

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: Yolanda of Cyprus

      Author: Cale Young Rice

      Release Date: September 27, 2010 [EBook #34004]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YOLANDA OF CYPRUS ***

      Produced by David Garcia, Christine Aldridge and the Online

      Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This

      file was produced from images generously made available

      by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)

      YOLANDA OF CYPRUS

      BY

      CALE YOUNG RICE

      AUTHOR OF

      CHARLES DI TOCA, A NIGHT IN AVIGNON,

      DAVID, ETC., ETC.

      NEW YORK

      THE McCLURE COMPANY

      MCMVIII

      Copyright, 1908, by The McClure Company

      Published, March, 1908

      ACT I

      ACT II

      ACT III

      ACT IV

      ACT I

      CHARACTERS

      YOLANDA OF CYPRUS

      Scene: A dim Hall, of blended Gothic and Saracenic styles, in the Lusignan Castle, on the island of Cyprus near Famagouste. Around the walls, above faint frescoes portraying the deliverance of Jerusalem by the Crusaders, runs a frieze inlaid with the coats-of-arms of former Lusignan kings. On the left, and back, is a door hung with heavy damask, and in the wall opposite, another. Farther down on the right a few steps, whose railing supports a Greek vase with jasmine, lead through a chapel to the sleeping apartments. In the rear, on either side, are guled lattice windows, and in the centre an open grated door, looking upon a loggia, and, across the garden below, over the moonlit sea. Seats are placed about, and, forward, a divan with rich Turkish coverings. A table with a lighted cross-shaped candlestick is by the door, left; and a lectern with a book on it, to the front, right. As the curtain rises, the Women, except Civa, lean wearily on the divan, and Halil near is singing dreamily:

      Ah, the balm, the balm, And ah, the blessing Of the deep fall of night And of confessing. Of the sick soul made white Of all distressing: Made white!... Ah, balm of night And, ah the blessing!

      [The music falls and all seem yielding to sleep. Suddenly there are hoof-beats and sounds at the gates below. Halil springs up.

      Halil. Alessa! Maga! Voices at the gates!

      [All start up.

      Some one is come.

      Alessa. Boy, Halil, who?

      Halil. Up, up!

      Perhaps lord Renier—No: I will learn.

      [He runs to curtains and looks.

      It is Olympio! Olympio!

      From Famagouste and lord Amaury!

      Mauria. Ah!

      And comes he here?

      Halil. As he were lord of skies!

      To lady Yolanda, by my lute!

      Maga. Where is she?

      Alessa. I do not know; perhaps, her chamber.

      Mauria. Stay:

      His word may be of the Saracens.

      Halil (calling). Oho!

      [He admits Olympio, who enters insolently down. All press round him gaily.

      Mauria. Well, what, Olympio, from Famagouste?

      What tidings? tell us.

      Maga. See, his sword!

      Olympio. Stand off.

      Mauria. The tidings, then, the tidings!

      Olympio. None—for women.

      Mauria. So-ho, my Cupid? None of the Saracens?

      Of the squadron huddling yesterday for haven

      At Keryneia?

      Olympio. Who has told you?

      Mauria. Who?

      A hundred galleys westing up the wind,

      Scenting the shore, but timorous as hounds.

      A gale—and twenty down!

      Maga. The rest are flown?

      Olympio. Ask Zeus, or ask, to-morrow, lord Amaury,

      Or, if he comes, to-night. To lady Yolanda

      I'm sent and not to tattle, silly, here.

      [He starts off, but is arrested by laughter within. It is Civa who enters, holding up a parchment.

      O! Only Civa.

      [Starts again with Halil.

      Civa. How, Olympio!

      Stay you, and hear!—May never virgin love him!

      Gone as a thistle! (turns).

      Mauria. Pouf! ( laughs ).

      Alessa (to Civa). Now what have you?

      Civa. Verses! found in the garden. Verses! verses!

      On papyrus of Paphos. O, to read!

      But you, Alessa—!

      Alessa (takes them). In the garden?

      Civa. By

      The fountain cypress, at the marble feet

      Of chaste Diana!

      Maga. Where Sir Camarin

      And oft our lady—!

      Civa. Maga, will you prattle?

      Read them to us, Alessa, read them, read.

      They are of love!

      Maga. No, sorrow.

      Civa. O, as a nun

      You ever sigh for sorrow!—They are of love!

      Of princes bursting through enchanted bounds

      To ladies prisoned in an ogre's keep!

      Then of the bridals!—O, they are of love!

      Maga. No, Civa, no!—of sorrow! see, her lips!

      [She points to

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