Cordelia: A Noh play

Cordelia
A Noh play

FIRST DAN

WAKI
I am one of the faithful, who, mov'd by thoughts of pious devotion, have taken it upon me to make the pilgrimage to Becket's sacred shrine in Canterbury. As it is on my way, I have thought to make a stop by the cliffs of such renown which are to be found at Dover.

As I come to this chalky bourn
where far below
ebb and flow by the white moon
lacy froth of tidal waves
make towards the pebbl'd shore
where long ago
the French did land coming from
across the channel
flowing fleece of snowy fog
fills the plain
nothingness of this landscape

past this hovel on the plain
away from the cliff
disappears the horizon
in the plain whiteness
I will make my orison
as light decreases
praying paternosters for
souls in purgat'ry

SECOND DAN

(enter Shite)
SHITE
To this place's sheer whiteness
do I still return
to this place's sheer whiteness
do I still return
although nothing stands to speak
in my mem'ry

CHORUS
to this place's sheer whiteness
do I still return
although nothing stands to speak
in my mem'ry

SHITE
above the pebbl'd strand of time
this heathen cliff
hangs in emptiness of age
time's father face
expos'd against the warring winds
winding wightly
whiteness pure and unadorn'd
dissembling not
my heart returns to silent
love and faith

to this plainness honour's bound
to speak silently
what I feel, not what I ought
to give nothing

and the gulls that fly
like silver'd butterflies
mesh'd in mist returning
hanging in the emptiness
my heart speaks softly
cry out in the emptiness
of pure whiteness
flying out to freedom 'til
it shall break clear
cordially I make this pledge
here to recall
cordially I make this pledge
here to recall

THIRD DAN

WAKI
As I say my orisons, my heart grows clear and peaceful. Then, from the mist, a beautiful young lady appears, walking over the heath towards me. Who is this lady who so shimmers as snow fresh-fallen of a morn?

SHITE
I am one who comes from these parts. Near here is where the French landed, long in the past, and on this plain was a battle fought between them, led by the youngest daughter of King Lear, Cordelia, who had been disowned, and the two elder daughters of King Lear, between whom the kingdom had been divided. In this place was the youngest daughter through treachery hang'd, and here it was that Lear died of grief for her death. I come every year to this site to pay my remembrances.

WAKI
How very true! I have heard of this legend. But all of this occurred many years in the misty past. Why then do you still come to make remembrance? Are you in some way related to these long-dead figures?

SHITE
You ask of whether I am related to Lear and Cordelia. But you yourself have heard the story, and know of its antiquity. These figures are near-vanish'd in the past; how then could I be related to them?

WAKI
What you say is true, and yet
still I feel that
there is something of your presence

SHITE
like the daughter
in whiteness of purity

WAKI
coming from the mists
rolling inward

SHITE
from the sea so far below

WAKI
surging on the

SHITE
pebbl'd shore

CHORUS
at this white wash'd place
where the mighty sea, forc'd by
the tide to combat
where the mighty sea, forc'd by
the tide to combat
laps at the lime and leaves thereon
a frosty rime
it seems so much as on that day
in ancient time
in the empty waste on high
when the regals fell
nothing then as nothing now
marks the love unmade
but the stones that stand unmov'd
unable to speak
how silent, cold and empty
is this high place
how silent, cold and empty
is this high place

FOURTH DAN

WAKI
Will you not tell me all that you can about Lear and Cordelia?

CHORUS
It was long ago
that the French landed at Dover
led by their King
and his Queen, Cordelia
disown'd daughter of Lear
pure and fair as these white cliffs
and this mist
plain in speech and in heart

SHITE
there she met her father
repentant
depos'd by his daughters
ill and wild

CHORUS
his daughters Goneril and Regan
met with force
the French who'd come to save England
from their wickedness
hard-fought was the battle

SHITE
the French were driven back
Cordelia captur'd was
with Lear her regain'd father

CHORUS
two alone like birds i' the cage
a warrant was issu'd
on their lives hanging in the
balance of power
one daughter dead by two dead
afterward of their own hand

SHITE
thou shalt come no more
never, never, never

CHORUS
pray you undo this button
he faints—my lord, my lord!

CHORUS
It was in the palace
of Lear the aging King
that his daughters three were call'd
to express their love
in the sharing of his wealth
and betrothal
Goneril's words flow'd like honey
from the stinging bee
her love she said so much
as to make speech unable
Regan's words surmounted
as the rose that grows
thorn-wall'd from what cows have us'd
each receiv'd her share
now, though last, not least, our joy
call'd upon to speak
words in sweet molasses drench'd
what can you dissemble?

SHITE
Nothing, my lord.

CHORUS
Heart as pure as drifting mist
knows no illusion
as a still deep pond without
surface broken
mend your speech, Cordelia
the skies darken
draw a third more opulent
do not be without
that glib and oily art
to speak and purpose not
I cannot heave up my heart
into my mouth
and so in silence she leaves
with France alone

CHORUS
As I hear the words you speak
lady of the mist
strange and wonderful you seem
not ordinary
are you wandering lady
some lost fair princess?

SHITE
I am nothing, my lord
that you should want to remember
I am not the first
with best meaning to incur
the worst upon my love
in your prayers remember me
as one pass'd beyond
that am most rich, being poor
and most lov'd, despis'd

CHORUS
Oh, most wonderful!
You are a spirit, I know
of the silent one
who did speak but with her heart

SHITE
gone are all the regal names
the word that remains

CHORUS
is the fair Cordelia

SHITE
this is all that I am still

CHORUS
in the nothingness
of this wasted place on high
as the dark falls
suspended in the pale fog
slowly then she turns
and like lace in milk she fades
in the empty air
and like lace in milk she fades
in the empty air

(exit Shite)

(interlude)

FIFTH DAN

WAKI
The hour grows late
surrend'ring the milky white
to the inky black
surrend'ring the milky white
to the inky black
in this hovel I will lay
my mat on the ground
stretching out on the damp dark
earth of which we're made
in the dimming crepuscule
I will say my prayers
in the dimming crepuscule
I will say my prayers

(enter Shite)

SHITE
The tide has revers'd
baring now the darkling strand
brings the darkest hour
fading spirits wanting hope
to nothing return

WAKI
Look where she comes again
restless soul in fading light
wherefore walk you so late
empty night surrounds you yet
you restore your form
is this plain the site that saw

SHITE
Lear to me return'd
crooked eclipses against
his glory made war
he was met in blackest hour

WAKI
mad as the vex'd sea
sent out in a raging storm

SHITE
had you not been their father
these white flakes
had challeng'd pity of them

WAKI
I should even die with pity
to see another thus

SHITE
brought low for the sake of nothing

WAKI
that he could undo

SHITE
returning

CHORUS
restoration hang
medicine upon my lips
time doth transfix
the flourish set upon youth
bringing to the night
in sequent turmoil all that
lays his glory low
tears do scald like molten lead
look upon me sir
hands in benediction hold
to the silence
be your tears wet? Pray, weep not
if you have poison
I will drain the cup for you
for you have just cause
I will drain the cup for you
for you have just cause

SHITE
no cause, no cause, nothing, lord
to bring you so low

CHORUS
in the empty night return'd
to Cordelia's love

Jo no mai (dance)

SHITE
In this hollow night
to this empty place on high
warring winds now rise

CHORUS
blow, winds, rage and crack your cheeks
howl, howl, howl, to stir the dead

SHITE
out of time suspended
in the wailing winds

CHORUS
still the whiten'd face stands still

SHITE
o'er the rocky shore

CHORUS
turning tides have drain'd away

SHITE
ebbing by the moon

CHORUS
all that stirs now is the air
failing light bereaves us
nothing stands upon this heath
but for time's scythe to mow
no breath or mist will stain the stone
vex not his ghost
let him pass beyond the bourn
let her pass into the dead
as earth
passing now the moon
reverses yet again the cycle
all is brought to nothing
raging winds ravage the plain
that hangs beyond the strand
the stones are worn to pebbles
in the glass of time
shivering
she turns again
surrendering to emptiness
she recedes
into nothingness
she fades away
leaving nothing

Fiction and Plays

Cordelia A Noh play

Cordelia
A Noh play