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A Priestess brings a box of spices to Camma, who throws them on the altarflame.

Camma. Rouse the dead altar-flame, fling in the spices,

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Nard, cinnamon, amomum, benzoin.
Let all the air reel into a mist of odor,
As in the midmost heart of Paradise.
Lay down the Lydian carpets for the King.
The King should pace on purple to his
bride,

And music there to greet my lord the King. [Music.

(To Phœbe.) Dost thou remember when I wedded Sinnatus?

Ay, thou wast there — whether from maiden fears

Or reverential love for him I loved,

Or some strange second-sight, the marriage-cup

Wherefrom we make libation to the Goddess

So shook within my hand that the red wine Ran down the marble and lookt like blood, like blood.

Phabe. I do remember your first-marriage fears.

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Camma. I have no fears at this my second marriage.

I stretch my hand out — hold

See here it there. How steady it is!

Phabe. Steady enough to stab him! Camma. O, hush! O, peace! This vio

lence ill becomes

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tesy

Entreats he may be present at our marriage.

Camma. Let him come — a legion with him, if he will.

(To Antonius.) Welcome, my lord Antonius, to our Temple.

(To Synorix.) You on this side the al

tar. (To Antonius.) You on that. Call first upon the Goddess, Synorix.

[All face the Goddess. Priestesses, Children, Populace, and Guards kneel the others remain standing. Synorix. O thou that dost inspire the germ with life,

The child, a thread within the house of birth,

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Synorix. I thank thee, Camma, — I thank thee. Camma. It is our ancient custom in Galatia That ere two souls be knit for life and death, They two should drink together from one cup,

In symbol of their married unity,
Making libation to the Goddess. Bring me
The costly wines we use in marriages.

210

[They bring in a large jar of wine. Camma pours wine into cup. (To Synorix.) See here, I fill it. (To Antonius.) Will you drink, my lord?

Antonius. I? Why should I? I am not to be married.

Camma. But that might bring a Roman blessing on us.

Antonius (refusing cup). Thy pardon, priestess ! Camma.

Thou art in the right. This blessing is for Synorix and for me. See, first I make libation to the Goddess, [Makes libation.

And now I drink.

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This play was produced at the Globe Theatre in London in November, 1882; and, though generally condemned by the critics, it had a run of five weeks. This was partially due to an incident of a somewhat sensational character which occurred at one of the earlier representations. At the beginning of the opening scene the Marquis of Queensberry rose from his seat in the stalls, and loudly protested against what he regarded as Tennyson's attack upon freethinkers in the character of Edgar. After some delay the performance was allowed to proceed, but at its close the Marquis rose again, declaring himself a freethinker, and denouncing the play as a travesty of the sect. The next day he explained in a morning paper that his indignation had been particularly excited by Edgar's comments on marriage. He added:

'I am a secularist and a freethinker, and, though I repudiate it, a so-called atheist, and, as President of the British Secular Union, I protest against Mr. Tennyson's abominable caricature of an individual whom [sic], I presume, he would have us believe represents some body of people which, thanks for the good of humanity, most certainly does not exist among freethinkers." The poet's son Lionel took part in the newspaper controversy that followed. For his analysis of the character of Edgar (which represents his father's conception), see the Notes.

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Farming Men and Women. Farming Men carrying forms, etc., Women carrying baskets of knives and forks, etc.

First Farming Man. Be thou a-gawin' to the long barn?

Second Farming Man. Ay, to be sewer! Be thou ?

First Farming Man. Why, o' coorse, fur it be the owd man's birthdaäy. He be heighty this very daäy, and 'e telled all on us to be i' the long barn by one o'clock, fur he 'll gie us a big dinner, and haäfe th' parish 'll be theer, an' Miss Dora, an' Miss Eva, an' all !

II

Second Farming Man. Miss Dora be coomed back, then?

First Farming Man. Ay, haäfe an hour ago. She be in theer now. (Pointing to house.) Owd Steer wur afeärd she would n't be back i' time to keep his birthdaäy, and he wur in a tew about it all the murnin'; and he sent me wi' the gig to Littlechester to fetch 'er; and 'er an' the owd man they fell a kissin' o' one another like two sweet'arts i' the poorch as soon as he clapt eyes of 'er.

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O, joy for the promise of May, of May,
O, joy for the promise of May!

(Nodding at Dobson.) I'm coming down, Mr. Dobson. I have n't seen Eva yet. Is she anywhere in the garden?

Dobson. Noä, Miss. I ha'n't seed 'er neither.

DORA (enters singing).

But a red fire woke in the heart of the town, And a fox from the glen ran away with the hen,

And a cat to the cream, and a rat to the cheese;

And the stock-dove coo'd, till a kite dropt down,

And a salt wind burnt the blossoming trees; O, grief for the promise of May, of May, O, grief for the promise of May!

I don't know why I sing that song; I don't love it.

Dobson. Blessings on your pretty voice, Miss Dora ! Wheer did they laru ye

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Dora. In Cumberland, Mr. Dobson. Dobson. An' how did ye leäve the owd uncle i' Coomberland ?

Dora. Getting better, Mr. Dobson. But he 'll never be the same man again. Dobson. An' how d' ye find the owd mas 'ere?

Dora. As well as ever. I came back to keep his birthday.

Dobson. Well, I be coomed to keep his birthdaäy an' all. The owd man be heighty to-daäy, beänt he?

Dora. Yes, Mr. Dobson. And the day's bright like a friend, but the wind east like an enemy. Help me to move this bench for him into the sun. (They move bench.) No, not that way here, under the appletree. Thank you. Look how full of rosy blossom it is. [Pointing to apple-tree. Dobson. Theer be redder blossoms nor

them, Miss Dora.

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Dora. Where do they blow, Mr. Dob

son ?

Dobson. Under your eyes, Miss Dora. Dora. Do they?

Dobson. And your eyes be as blue asDora. What, Mr. Dobson? A butcher's frock?

Dobson. Noä, Miss Dora; as blue as — Dora. Bluebell, harebell, speedwell, blue bottle, succory, forget-me-not?

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