e Island of Cyprus_

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!