FullReads

The sailor again, staggering.

THE QUEEN.
What, has the ship not gone?

THE SAILOR.
Gone, and left me behind. Gone, and left me. . . .

THE FOOL.
Here is still wine in the flagon.

THE SAILOR.
Good. Good. Give it to me.

THE QUEEN.
( to the fool )

First bring it to me.

( She takes off a ring, and dips it in the wine. To the fool )

–I have spoken lightly of poisoning today. Now I think I will try it.
I would like to see a man die. It will ease me a little. Come!

The sailor comes and takes it from her hands,

while the fool stares fascinated.

THE QUEEN.
How does it taste?

THE SAILOR.
( suddenly straightening up, no longer drunk )

Bitter. What was in it?

THE QUEEN.
The bitterness of my heart. It will kill you.

THE SAILOR.
I have been poisoned.

( He puts his hand to his side.)
I am dying. But first–!

He draws a short sword, and runs at her. The fool starts up, but the Queen motions him away, and waits. When the sailor is almost upon her, he stops, throws up his hands, drops his sword, and falls in a heap.

THE QUEEN.
( after a moment, going up, and touching the body with her foot )

Dead. So that is what it is like?

THE FOOL.
( trembling )

Do you find it so interesting?

THE QUEEN.
No–my heart is already aching with its emptiness again…. What shall I do?

THE FOOL.
You might poison me, too. I think I would die in a more original manner than that silly sailor. Yes, I would seize you in my arms and kiss you before I died.

THE QUEEN.
That would be amusing. But it is a pity to waste kisses on a dying man. And besides, you are the only one in my kingdom who understands me. I must have you alive to talk to.

THE FOOL.
There are strange stories about the kisses of queens.

THE QUEEN.
Tell them to me.

THE FOOL.
There is an old saying that three kisses bestowed
by a queen upon a fool will make a hero of him.

THE QUEEN.
That might be interesting. I think I will try it. Come to me, do not be afraid. This day I have given my kisses to a man who thought no more of them than that dead sailor there of the kisses of a harlot. What, must you kneel? Well, then, upon your forehead.

She kisses him upon the forehead as he kneels.

He slowly rises, and as he rises he takes on dignity. His fool’s cap is dropped aside, he picks up the dead sailor’s sword and girds it on him.

THE QUEEN.
Ah, it is true. There is magic in it.
You are handsome, too. I am not sorry to have kissed you.

The old woman comes in.

THE QUEEN.
Well, what is the news? The ship has sailed, has it not?

THE OLD WOMAN.
Straight into the sunset.

( She sees the dead man, and looks at the Queen and at the fool.)