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Clouds quench the sun, and thunder- And round its wreck the huge sea
monsters sit, A horrid conclave, and the whistling
Strangles the air, and fire eclipses heaven.
Philosophy, thou canst not even Compel their causes underneath thy yoke: From yonder clouds even to the waves below
The fragments of a single ruin choke
For, on flakes of surge, like feathers light,
The ashes of the desolation cast
Upon the gloomy blast,
Tell of the footsteps of the storm.
And it must fly the pity of the port,
The terror of the thrilling cry
And not alone the insane elements
Are populous with wild portents, But that sad ship is as a miracle
Of sudden ruin, for it drives so fast
It strikes-I almost feel the shock,
Of coming death, who hovers now Upon that shattered prow, Friend, That they who die not may be dying Collect thyself; and be the memory Of thy late suffering, and thy greatest
wake a tumult on the sapphire
Great form is in a watery eclipse
That in this unknown form I might at
Wipe out the blot of the discomfiture
Even from his love and from his wisdom.
Beloved earth, dear mother, in thy
I seek a refuge from the monster who
Dæmon. And who art thou, before whose feet my fate Has prostrated me? Cyprian. with pity, Now from this Would soothe its stings.
One who, moved
All exclaim within.
Dæmon. Oh, that can never be! Pass to the land and thus fulfil my No solace can my lasting sorrows find. scheme.
Because my happi
ness is lost.
The object of desire or memory,
Cyprian. Now, since the fury Was the attempt, and yet more mad were Of this earthquaking hurricane is still, And the crystalline heaven has reassumed
Repentance of the irrevocable deed :— Therefore I chose this ruin with the glory
Its windless calm so quickly, that it
Of not to be subdued, before the shame As if its heavy wrath had been awak- Of reconciling me with him who reigns By coward cession.-Nor was I alone, Nor am I now, nor shall I be alone; And there was hope, and there may still be hope,
ened Only to overwhelm that vessel,-speak, Who art thou, and whence comest thou? Damon. Far more My coming hither cost, than thou hast
This shipwreck is the least. Wilt thou
Speak. Dæmon. Since thou desirest, I will then unveil
Myself to thee;--for in myself I am
Or I can tell. Among my misadven- Are mine, and many more, perchance
For ever. In my attributes I stood
A king-whom I may call the king of
Because all others tremble in their pride
In mighty competition, to ascend
For many suffrages among his vassals Hailed me their lord and king, and many still
Thus vanquished, though in fact victorious,
I left his seat of empire, from mine eye
With inauspicious thunderings shook
Proclaiming vengeance, public as my
And imprecating on his prostrate slaves
Over the mighty fabric of the world,
And craggy shores; and I have wandered
The expanse of these wide wildernesses In this great ship, whose bulk is now dissolved
Of living light-call them the stars of In the light breathings of the invisible HeavenNamed me his counsellor. But the high | And which the sea has made a dustless praise ruin,
Stung me with pride and envy, and I Seeking ever a mountain, through whose forests
I seek a man, whom I must now compel
In tempest, and although my power
could well Bridle the forest winds in their career,
For other causes I forbore to soothe
Nor the succeeding calm excite thy Rule and adorn the world, can ever wonder;
For by my art the sun would turn as The least division between thee and pale
As his weak sister with unwonted fear.
Written as in a record; I have pierced
The flaming circles of their wondrous spheres
And know them as thou knowest every
Of this dim spot.
That loadstar of the ages, to whose beam
This Babylon of crags and agèd trees,
Of these wild oaks and pines-and as
I have received the hospitality
Of years of toil in recompense; whate’er
As object of desire, that shall be thine.
And thenceforth shall so firm an amity
The monstrous phantom which pursues
That careful miser, that free prodigal,
The winged years speed o'er the intervals
Abyss of Hell! I call on thee,
Let it not seem to Thou wild misrule of thine own anarchy !
A charm over this waste and savage They may destroy a world of virgin
Since now I find a refuge in thy favour.
SCENE III.-The DEMON tempts
Let her chaste mind with fancies thick
Be peopled from thy shadowy deep,
Let birds, and flowers, and leaves, and
To love, only to love.
Let nothing meet her eyes
But signs of Love's soft victories;
But sounds of Love's sweet sorrow, So that from faith no succour she may borrow,
But, guided by my spirit blind
She may now seek Cyprian.
A Voice (within).
And I the cause.
[She again becomes troubled. And yet if it were pity, Floro and Lelio might have equal share, For they are both imprisoned for my sake.
(Calmly.) Alas! what reasonings are Compelling thee to that which it inclines
Enough I pity him, and that, in vain,
Damon. Follow, and I will lead thee where he is.
Justina. And who art thou, who hast found entrance hither, Into my chamber through the doors and locks?
Art thou a monstrous shadow which my madness
find him now,
Even should I seek him through this Must force thy will. wide world.
Has formed in the idle air?
No. I am one Called by the thought which tyrannises thee
From his eternal dwelling; who this day
Is pledged to bear thee unto Cyprian.
May sweep imagination in its storm;
Already half is
Thought is not in my power, but action is:
Exerts itself within thee, with such
In the imagination of an act.
Let not the will stop half-way on the road.
By my free-will.
[He draws, but cannot move her. Dæmon. Come, where a pleasure waits thee.
It were bought
'Twill soothe thy heart
If my power drags thee onward?
[He vainly endeavours to force her,
subdued me, Only by not owning thyself subdued. But since thou thus findest defence in
I will assume a feignèd form, and thus Make thee a victim of my baffled rage. For I will mask a spirit in thy form Who will betray thy name to infamy, And doubly shall I triumph in thy loss, Although I thought it, and although 'tis First by dishonouring thee, and then by
Justina. I will not be discouraged, nor despair,
That thought is but a prelude to the False pleasure to true ignominy.