PAGE 10
The Rim Of The World: A Fantasy
by
THE KING.
I?
THE GYPSY.
Yes–you must go to her yourself.
THE KING.
There’s an idea. But what am I to do then?
THE GYPSY.
Talk to her, make her your friend. Coax her secret out of her, and you will find that she is some madcap actress from a travelling company of mountebanks, who has done this thing in order to have the story told by the gazetteers and bring people to look at her. Get her to confess, and then let her story spread among the crowd–and the whole uprising that is now taxing the resources of the palace guard will dissolve in a burst of laughter.
THE KING.
I will do it. If it is not a kingly duty, I shall at least accomplish
it in a kingly manner. Thank you, my friend. But what is this?
THE MAID.
( entering )
Your majesty–
THE KING.
Speak. What is it?
THE MAID.
Two couriers from the King of Basque have arrived
on foam-flecked horses, and ask to see you instantly.
THE KING.
Let them wait.
I have other affairs in hand. Send them here on the stroke of noon.
( To the Gypsy )
Your explanation may be the correct one.
But my own opinion is that she is mad.
Whatever it is, I shall soon have the truth.
THE GYPSY.
May the fortune of kings attend you!
The King goes out. The Gypsy and the maid seat
themselves idly on the edge of the dais.
THE MAID.
Poor woman! No doubt she went mad with love of the King,
until she imagined herself to be his bride.
I can understand that! Poor woman!
THE GYPSY.
I am almost sorry for him.
THE MAID.
Sorry for him ? You mean, for her !
THE GYPSY.
The Princess of Basque needs none to be sorry for her.
She can take care of herself–as she proved on the eye
of the soldier who locked her up.
THE MAID.
Then you believe it? That she is the Princess of Basque?
THE GYPSY.
I know it. Have I not seen her face?
THE MAID.
Then why did you not speak up?
THE GYPSY.
Who am I, to interfere in the prenuptial courtesies of a royal pair?
Besides, it will give her an insight into the character of her future husband.
THE MAID.
You are very unjust to the King, to say that.
He is not unkind. He only had her locked up because he thought her demented.
THE GYPSY.
Precisely. Oh, she is not one to mind a little rough handling. She gives as good as she gets. She will not hold that against him. But that he should think her mad because she came unattended, at an unexpected hour, with flushed cheeks and laughing lips to meet her lover–!
THE MAID.
Because she came climbing in at the window like a madwoman!
THE GYPSY.
You think as the King does. For you there are no ways but the way to which you are accustomed. That is sanity to you, and all else is madness. You have a map of life which is like your maps of the world–with all the safe known places marked by their familiar names, and outside you have drawn childish pictures of fabulous beasts, and written, “This is a desert.” But I tell you I have gone into these deserts, and found good green grass there, and sweet spring water, and delightful fruits. And beyond them I have seen great mountains and stormy seas…. And I shall go back some day, and cross those mountains and those seas, and find what lies beyond.