In the Water Palace
The gracious rain caressed the fields
To bountiful increase,
Profusion reigned throughout the land,
And, on the borders, peace.
Yet, in the streets, the people cried
"It is a shameful thing,
Now all the Gods are more than kind,
This madness of the King."
A gipsy-girl his heart ensnares,
And all his days and nights
Are spent, unmindful of the State,
In profitless delights.
The Maharani sits alone,
Her lashes wet with tears,
While all the pearls and gems of state
Her gipsy rival wears.
In vain they bring her silken robes,
In vain her maidens sing,
She will but sigh, "When shall I see
The beauty of the king?"
The gipsy's youth is all but o'er,
Her time for children past,
The people say, "Without a son
How shall the kingdom last?"
And louder yet the murmurs grow
Of folly and disgrace,
And faster still the Rani's tears
Flow down her youthful face.
One night, a faithful handmaiden
Unto her chamber came;
"Presence," she said, "'tis thou alone
Canst save the king from shame.
"The gipsy girl we drugged to-night
And stole her silks away,
Rise thou, and play the wanton's part
Until the dawn of day.
"We gave a philtre to the king
To set his brain afire,
And thou shalt take the gipsy's place
To solace his desire.
"Thus lying joyous on thy heart,
If all propitious be,
He, thinking of the gipsy's charms,
Shall bring a son to thee.
"If this, Oh, Rani, thou canst do
Thy virtue will be great;
Thou from himself wilt save the king,
And from the king the state.
"But ah, remember, he must go
Before the skies grow light,
Ere yet the philtre leave his brain
Too clear in sense and sight.
"For should he dream that thou art thou,
And realise the truth
Too suddenly, he would not spare
Thy beauty or thy youth.
"In some auspicious, later hour,
If our desire be gained,
The tender sequence of the fraud
To him can be explained."
The Maharani rose and smiled,
She pushed her hair away,
"Ah, if he stay with me to-night,
At daybreak let him slay!"
Then round her slender neck she twined
The pearls as white as milk;
Her breast was all too young to fill
The crimson bodice silk.
She blushed to wear the gipsy's robes,
And yet they seemed to bring
A subtle sweetness to her soul,
Since well they knew the king.
And "Ah," she said, "I love him so,
I tremble with delight;
Would that I knew the gipsy's spell
To charm him through the night!"
Then to her rival's bower she went,
(Who far, unconscious, lay,)
And waited in a flush of joy
Till he should pass that way.
He came in all his jewelled state,
His dagger by his side,
The philtre filled him with desire
Fierce to be satisfied.
His youth and beauty changed her love
To passion at its best,
And round his neck she wound her arms
And took him to her breast.
She was so sweet, she loved so well,
Before the night was past,
He murmured, "Ah, my gipsy queen,
Thou lovest me at last!"
The watchful woman by the door
Waited in hope and fear,
Praying the Gods that all go well
For her she held so dear.
And when the night had somewhat waned,
And sleep had closed his eyes,
"Presence," she said, "Unclasp thine arms
And bid thy lover rise."
The little Rani held him close
And smiling answered low,
"My lover is so sweet to me
I cannot let him go."
And once again she came to warn;
The Rani begged reprieve,
"Love is so sweet and new to me
How can I let him leave?"
A third time came the handmaiden,
Sleep weighted both their eyes,
The Rani sighed, "I love him so,
I cannot bid him rise!"
Thus all three slept until the dawn
Rose tremulous and clear,
And soon the sunlight through the room
Pierced like a golden spear.
It struck the king across the eyes,
He rose alert and keen,
He saw the pearls he knew so well,
But not his gipsy queen.
The Rani waking, held him still,
He tore her arms apart.
"This for thy treachery," he cried,
And stabbed her to the heart.