No More Learning

]

[Published by Locock, "Examination", etc. , 1903. ]

And the cloven waters like a chasm of mountains
Stood, and received him in its mighty portal
And led him through the deep's untrampled fountains

He went in wonder through the path immortal
Of his great Mother and her humid reign _5
And groves profaned not by the step of mortal

Which sounded as he passed, and lakes which rain
Replenished not girt round by marble caves
'Wildered by the watery motion of the main

Half 'wildered he beheld the bursting waves _10
Of every stream beneath the mighty earth
Phasis and Lycus which the . . . sand paves,

[And] The chasm where old Enipeus has its birth
And father Tyber and Anienas[? ] glow
And whence Caicus, Mysian stream, comes forth _15

And rock-resounding Hypanis, and thou
Eridanus who bearest like empire's sign
Two golden horns upon thy taurine brow

Thou than whom none of the streams divine
Through garden-fields and meads with fiercer power, _20
Burst in their tumult on the purple brine

***


SONNET.

FROM THE ITALIAN OF DANTE.

[Published with "Alastor", 1816; reprinted, "Posthumous Poems", 1824. ]

DANTE ALIGHIERI TO GUIDO CAVALCANTI:

Guido, I would that Lapo, thou, and I,
Led by some strong enchantment, might ascend
A magic ship, whose charmed sails should fly
With winds at will where'er our thoughts might wend,
So that no change, nor any evil chance _5
Should mar our joyous voyage; but it might be,
That even satiety should still enhance
Between our hearts their strict community:
And that the bounteous wizard then would place
Vanna and Bice and my gentle love, _10
Companions of our wandering, and would grace
With passionate talk, wherever we might rove,
Our time, and each were as content and free
As I believe that thou and I should be.

_5 So 1824; And 1816.

***


THE FIRST CANZONE OF THE CONVITO.

FROM THE ITALIAN OF DANTE.

[Published by Garnett, "Relics of Shelley", 1862; dated 1820. ]

1.
Ye who intelligent the Third Heaven move,
Hear the discourse which is within my heart,
Which cannot be declared, it seems so new.
The Heaven whose course follows your power and art,
Oh, gentle creatures that ye are! me drew, _5
And therefore may I dare to speak to you,
Even of the life which now I live--and yet
I pray that ye will hear me when I cry,
And tell of mine own heart this novelty;
How the lamenting Spirit moans in it, _10
And how a voice there murmurs against her
Who came on the refulgence of your sphere.

2.
A sweet Thought, which was once the life within
This heavy heart, man a time and oft
Went up before our Father's feet, and there _15
It saw a glorious Lady throned aloft;
And its sweet talk of her my soul did win,
So that I said, 'Thither I too will fare. '
That Thought is fled, and one doth now appear
Which tyrannizes me with such fierce stress, _20
That my heart trembles--ye may see it leap--
And on another Lady bids me keep
Mine eyes, and says--Who would have blessedness
Let him but look upon that Lady's eyes,
Let him not fear the agony of sighs. _25

3.
This lowly Thought, which once would talk with me
Of a bright seraph sitting crowned on high,
Found such a cruel foe it died, and so
My Spirit wept, the grief is hot even now--
And said, Alas for me! how swift could flee _30
That piteous Thought which did my life console!
And the afflicted one . . . questioning
Mine eyes, if such a Lady saw they never,
And why they would. . .
I said: 'Beneath those eyes might stand for ever _35
He whom . . . regards must kill with. . .
To have known their power stood me in little stead,
Those eyes have looked on me, and I am dead. '

4.
'Thou art not dead, but thou hast wandered,
Thou Soul of ours, who thyself dost fret,' _40
A Spirit of gentle Love beside me said;
For that fair Lady, whom thou dost regret,
Hath so transformed the life which thou hast led,
Thou scornest it, so worthless art thou made.
And see how meek, how pitiful, how staid, _45
Yet courteous, in her majesty she is.
And still call thou her Woman in thy thought;
Her whom, if thou thyself deceivest not,
Thou wilt behold decked with such loveliness,
That thou wilt cry [Love] only Lord, lo! here _50
Thy handmaiden, do what thou wilt with her.

5.
My song, I fear that thou wilt find but few
Who fitly shall conceive thy reasoning
Of such hard matter dost thou entertain.
Whence, if by misadventure chance should bring _55
Thee to base company, as chance may do,
Quite unaware of what thou dost contain,
I prithee comfort thy sweet self again,
My last delight; tell them that they are dull,
And bid them own that thou art beautiful. _60

NOTE:
C5. Published with "Epispychidion", 1821. --ED.

***


MATILDA GATHERING FLOWERS.

FROM THE PURGATORIO OF DANTE, CANTO 28, LINES 1-51.

[Published in part (lines 1-8, 22-51) by Medwin, "The Angler in Wales",
1834, "Life of Shelley", 1847; reprinted in full by Garnett, "Relics of
Shelley", 1862. ]

And earnest to explore within--around--
The divine wood, whose thick green living woof
Tempered the young day to the sight--I wound

Up the green slope, beneath the forest's roof,
With slow, soft steps leaving the mountain's steep, _5
And sought those inmost labyrinths, motion-proof

Against the air, that in that stillness deep
And solemn, struck upon my forehead bare,
The slow, soft stroke of a continuous. . .

In which the . . . leaves tremblingly were _10
All bent towards that part where earliest
The sacred hill obscures the morning air.

Yet were they not so shaken from the rest,
But that the birds, perched on the utmost spray,
Incessantly renewing their blithe quest, _15

With perfect joy received the early day,
Singing within the glancing leaves, whose sound
Kept a low burden to their roundelay,

Such as from bough to bough gathers around
The pine forest on bleak Chiassi's shore, _20
When Aeolus Sirocco has unbound.

My slow steps had already borne me o'er
Such space within the antique wood, that I
Perceived not where I entered any more,--

When, lo! a stream whose little waves went by, _25
Bending towards the left through grass that grew
Upon its bank, impeded suddenly

My going on. Water of purest hue
On earth, would appear turbid and impure
Compared with this, whose unconcealing dew, _30

Dark, dark, yet clear, moved under the obscure
Eternal shades, whose interwoven looms
The rays of moon or sunlight ne'er endure.

I moved not with my feet, but mid the glooms
Pierced with my charmed eye, contemplating _35
The mighty multitude of fresh May blooms

Which starred that night, when, even as a thing
That suddenly, for blank astonishment,
Charms every sense, and makes all thought take wing,--

A solitary woman! and she went _40
Singing and gathering flower after flower,
With which her way was painted and besprent.

'Bright lady, who, if looks had ever power
To bear true witness of the heart within,
Dost bask under the beams of love, come lower _45

Towards this bank. I prithee let me win
This much of thee, to come, that I may hear
Thy song: like Proserpine, in Enna's glen,

Thou seemest to my fancy, singing here
And gathering flowers, as that fair maiden when _50
She lost the Spring, and Ceres her, more dear.

NOTES:
_2 The 1862; That 1834.
_4, _5 So 1862;
Up a green slope, beneath the starry roof,
With slow, slow steps-- 1834.
_6 inmost 1862; leafy 1834.
_9 So 1862; The slow, soft stroke of a continuous sleep cj. Rossetti, 1870.
_9-_28 So 1862;
Like the sweet breathing of a child asleep:
Already I had lost myself so far
Amid that tangled wilderness that I
Perceived not where I ventured, but no fear
Of wandering from my way disturbed, when nigh
A little stream appeared; the grass that grew
Thick on its banks impeded suddenly
My going on. 1834.
_13 the 1862; their cj. Rossetti, 1870.
_26 through]the cj. Rossetti.
_28 hue 1862; dew 1834.
_30 dew 1862; hue 1834.
_32 Eternal shades 1862; Of the close boughs 1834.
_33 So 1862; No ray of moon or sunshine would endure 1834.
_34, _35 So 1862;
My feet were motionless, but mid the glooms
Darted my charmed eyes--1834.
_37 Which 1834; That 1862.
_39 So 1834; Dissolves all other thought. . . 1862.
_40 So 1862; Appeared a solitary maid--she went 1834.
_46 Towards 1862; Unto 1834.
_47 thee, to come 1862; thee O come 1834.

***


FRAGMENT.

ADAPTED FROM THE VITA NUOVA OF DANTE.

[Published by Forman, "Poetical Works of P. B. S. ", 1876. ]

What Mary is when she a little smiles
I cannot even tell or call to mind,
It is a miracle so new, so rare.

***


UGOLINO.

(Published by Medwin, "Life of Shelley", 1847, with Shelley's
corrections in italics ['']. --ED. )

INFERNO 33, 22-75.

[Translated by Medwin and corrected by Shelley. ]

Now had the loophole of that dungeon, still
Which bears the name of Famine's Tower from me,
And where 'tis fit that many another will

Be doomed to linger in captivity,
Shown through its narrow opening in my cell _5
'Moon after moon slow waning', when a sleep,

'That of the future burst the veil, in dream
Visited me. It was a slumber deep
And evil; for I saw, or I did seem'

To see, 'that' tyrant Lord his revels keep _10
The leader of the cruel hunt to them,
Chasing the wolf and wolf-cubs up the steep

Ascent, that from 'the Pisan is the screen'
Of 'Lucca'; with him Gualandi came,
Sismondi, and Lanfranchi, 'bloodhounds lean, _15

Trained to the sport and eager for the game
Wide ranging in his front;' but soon were seen
Though by so short a course, with 'spirits tame,'

The father and 'his whelps' to flag at once,
And then the sharp fangs gored their bosoms deep. _20
Ere morn I roused myself, and heard my sons,

For they were with me, moaning in their sleep,
And begging bread. Ah, for those darling ones!
Right cruel art thou, if thou dost not weep

In thinking of my soul's sad augury; _25
And if thou weepest not now, weep never more!
They were already waked, as wont drew nigh

The allotted hour for food, and in that hour
Each drew a presage from his dream. When I
'Heard locked beneath me of that horrible tower _30

The outlet; then into their eyes alone
I looked to read myself,' without a sign
Or word. I wept not--turned within to stone.

They wept aloud, and little Anselm mine,
Said--'twas my youngest, dearest little one,-- _35
"What ails thee, father? Why look so at thine? "

In all that day, and all the following night,
I wept not, nor replied; but when to shine
Upon the world, not us, came forth the light

Of the new sun, and thwart my prison thrown _40
Gleamed through its narrow chink, a doleful sight,
'Three faces, each the reflex of my own,

Were imaged by its faint and ghastly ray;'
Then I, of either hand unto the bone,
Gnawed, in my agony; and thinking they _45

Twas done from sudden pangs, in their excess,
All of a sudden raise themselves, and say,
"Father! our woes, so great, were yet the less

Would you but eat of us,--twas 'you who clad
Our bodies in these weeds of wretchedness; _50
Despoil them'. " Not to make their hearts more sad,

I 'hushed' myself. That day is at its close,--
Another--still we were all mute. Oh, had
The obdurate earth opened to end our woes!

The fourth day dawned, and when the new sun shone, _55
Outstretched himself before me as it rose
My Gaddo, saying, "Help, father! hast thou none

For thine own child--is there no help from thee? "
He died--there at my feet--and one by one,
I saw them fall, plainly as you see me. _60

Between the fifth and sixth day, ere twas dawn,
I found 'myself blind-groping o'er the three. '
Three days I called them after they were gone.

Famine of grief can get the mastery.

***


SONNET.

FROM THE ITALIAN OF CAVALCANTI.

GUIDO CAVALCANTI TO DANTE ALIGHIERI:

[Published by Forman (who assigns it to 1815), "Poetical Works of P. B.
S. ", 1876. ]

Returning from its daily quest, my Spirit
Changed thoughts and vile in thee doth weep to find:
It grieves me that thy mild and gentle mind
Those ample virtues which it did inherit
Has lost. Once thou didst loathe the multitude _5
Of blind and madding men--I then loved thee--
I loved thy lofty songs and that sweet mood
When thou wert faithful to thyself and me
I dare not now through thy degraded state
Own the delight thy strains inspire--in vain _10
I seek what once thou wert--we cannot meet
And we were wont. Again and yet again
Ponder my words: so the false Spirit shall fly
And leave to thee thy true integrity.

***


SCENES FROM THE MAGICO PRODIGIOSO.

FROM THE SPANISH OF CALDERON.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824; dated March, 1822.
There is a transcript of Scene 1 among the Hunt manuscripts, which has
been collated by Mr. Buxton Forman. ]

SCENE 1:

ENTER CYPRIAN, DRESSED AS A STUDENT;
CLARIN AND MOSCON AS POOR SCHOLARS, WITH BOOKS.

CYPRIAN:
In the sweet solitude of this calm place,
This intricate wild wilderness of trees
And flowers and undergrowth of odorous plants,
Leave me; the books you brought out of the house
To me are ever best society. _5
And while with glorious festival and song,
Antioch now celebrates the consecration
Of a proud temple to great Jupiter,
And bears his image in loud jubilee
To its new shrine, I would consume what still _10
Lives of the dying day in studious thought,
Far from the throng and turmoil. You, my friends,
Go, and enjoy the festival; it will
Be worth your pains. You may return for me
When the sun seeks its grave among the billows _15
Which, among dim gray clouds on the horizon,
Dance like white plumes upon a hearse;-- and here
I shall expect you.

NOTES:
_14 So transcr. ; Be worth the labour, and return for me 1824.
_16, _17 So 1824;
Hid among dim gray clouds on the horizon
Which dance like plumes--transcr. , Forman.

MOSCON:
I cannot bring my mind,
Great as my haste to see the festival
Certainly is, to leave you, Sir, without _20
Just saying some three or four thousand words.
How is it possible that on a day
Of such festivity, you can be content
To come forth to a solitary country
With three or four old books, and turn your back _25
On all this mirth?

NOTES:
_21 thousand transcr. ; hundred 1824.
_23 be content transcr. ; bring your mind 1824.

CLARIN:
My master's in the right;
There is not anything more tiresome
Than a procession day, with troops, and priests,
And dances, and all that.

NOTE:
_28 and priests transcr. ; of men 1824.

MOSCON:
From first to last,
Clarin, you are a temporizing flatterer; _30
You praise not what you feel but what he does;--
Toadeater!

CLARIN:
You lie--under a mistake--
For this is the most civil sort of lie
That can be given to a man's face. I now
Say what I think.

CYPRIAN:
Enough, you foolish fellows! _35
Puffed up with your own doting ignorance,
You always take the two sides of one question.
Now go; and as I said, return for me
When night falls, veiling in its shadows wide
This glorious fabric of the universe. _40

NOTE:
_36 doting ignorance transcr. ; ignorance and pride 1824.

MOSCON:
How happens it, although you can maintain
The folly of enjoying festivals,
That yet you go there?

CLARIN:
Nay, the consequence
Is clear:--who ever did what he advises
Others to do? --

MOSCON:
Would that my feet were wings, _45
So would I fly to Livia.

[EXIT. ]

CLARIN:
To speak truth,
Livia is she who has surprised my heart;
But he is more than half-way there. --Soho!
Livia, I come; good sport, Livia, soho!

[EXIT. ]

CYPRIAN:
Now, since I am alone, let me examine _50
The question which has long disturbed my mind
With doubt, since first I read in Plinius
The words of mystic import and deep sense
In which he defines God. My intellect
Can find no God with whom these marks and signs _55
Fitly agree. It is a hidden truth
Which I must fathom.

[CYPRIAN READS;
THE DAEMON, DRESSED IN A COURT DRESS, ENTERS. ]

NOTE:
_57 Stage Direction: So transcr. Reads. Enter the Devil as a fine
gentleman 1824.

DAEMON:
Search even as thou wilt,
But thou shalt never find what I can hide.

CYPRIAN:
What noise is that among the boughs? Who moves?
What art thou? --

DAEMON:
'Tis a foreign gentleman. _60
Even from this morning I have lost my way
In this wild place; and my poor horse at last,
Quite overcome, has stretched himself upon
The enamelled tapestry of this mossy mountain,
And feeds and rests at the same time. I was _65
Upon my way to Antioch upon business
Of some importance, but wrapped up in cares
(Who is exempt from this inheritance? )
I parted from my company, and lost
My way, and lost my servants and my comrades. _70

CYPRIAN:
'Tis singular that even within the sight
Of the high towers of Antioch you could lose
Your way. Of all the avenues and green paths
Of this wild wood there is not one but leads,
As to its centre, to the walls of Antioch; _75
Take which you will, you cannot miss your road.

DAEMON:
And such is ignorance! Even in the sight
Of knowledge, it can draw no profit from it.
But as it still is early, and as I
Have no acquaintances in Antioch, _80
Being a stranger there, I will even wait
The few surviving hours of the day,
Until the night shall conquer it. I see
Both by your dress and by the books in which
You find delight and company, that you _85
Are a great student;--for my part, I feel
Much sympathy in such pursuits.

NOTE:
_87 in transcr. ; with 1824.

CYPRIAN:
Have you
Studied much?

DAEMON:
No,--and yet I know enough
Not to be wholly ignorant.

CYPRIAN:
Pray, Sir,
What science may you know? --

DAEMON:
Many.

CYPRIAN:
Alas!
_90
Much pains must we expend on one alone,
And even then attain it not;--but you
Have the presumption to assert that you
Know many without study.

DAEMON:
And with truth.
For in the country whence I come the sciences _95
Require no learning,--they are known.

NOTE:
_95 come the sciences]come sciences 1824.

CYPRIAN:
Oh, would
I were of that bright country! for in this
The more we study, we the more discover
Our ignorance.

DAEMON:
It is so true, that I
Had so much arrogance as to oppose _100
The chair of the most high Professorship,
And obtained many votes, and, though I lost,
The attempt was still more glorious, than the failure
Could be dishonourable. If you believe not,
Let us refer it to dispute respecting _105
That which you know the best, and although I
Know not the opinion you maintain, and though
It be the true one, I will take the contrary.

NOTE:
_106 the transcr. ; wanting, 1824.

CYPRIAN:
The offer gives me pleasure. I am now
Debating with myself upon a passage _110
Of Plinius, and my mind is racked with doubt
To understand and know who is the God
Of whom he speaks.

DAEMON:
It is a passage, if
I recollect it right, couched in these words
'God is one supreme goodness, one pure essence, _115
One substance, and one sense, all sight, all hands. '

CYPRIAN:
'Tis true.

DAEMON:
What difficulty find you here?

CYPRIAN:
I do not recognize among the Gods
The God defined by Plinius; if he must
Be supreme goodness, even Jupiter _120
Is not supremely good; because we see
His deeds are evil, and his attributes
Tainted with mortal weakness; in what manner
Can supreme goodness be consistent with
The passions of humanity?

DAEMON:
The wisdom _125
Of the old world masked with the names of Gods
The attributes of Nature and of Man;
A sort of popular philosophy.

CYPRIAN:
This reply will not satisfy me, for
Such awe is due to the high name of God _130
That ill should never be imputed. Then,
Examining the question with more care,
It follows, that the Gods would always will
That which is best, were they supremely good.
How then does one will one thing, one another? _135
And that you may not say that I allege
Poetical or philosophic learning:--
Consider the ambiguous responses
Of their oracular statues; from two shrines
Two armies shall obtain the assurance of _140
One victory. Is it not indisputable
That two contending wills can never lead
To the same end? And, being opposite,
If one be good, is not the other evil?
Evil in God is inconceivable; _145
But supreme goodness fails among the Gods
Without their union.

NOTE:
_133 would transcr. ; should 1824.

DAEMON:
I deny your major.
These responses are means towards some end
Unfathomed by our intellectual beam.
They are the work of Providence, and more _150
The battle's loss may profit those who lose,
Than victory advantage those who win.

CYPRIAN:
That I admit; and yet that God should not
(Falsehood is incompatible with deity)
Assure the victory; it would be enough _155
To have permitted the defeat. If God
Be all sight,--God, who had beheld the truth,
Would not have given assurance of an end
Never to be accomplished: thus, although
The Deity may according to his attributes _160
Be well distinguished into persons, yet
Even in the minutest circumstance
His essence must be one.

NOTE:
_157 had transcr. ; wanting, 1824.

DAEMON:
To attain the end
The affections of the actors in the scene
Must have been thus influenced by his voice. _165

CYPRIAN:
But for a purpose thus subordinate
He might have employed Genii, good or evil,--
A sort of spirits called so by the learned,
Who roam about inspiring good or evil,
And from whose influence and existence we _170
May well infer our immortality.
Thus God might easily, without descent
To a gross falsehood in his proper person,
Have moved the affections by this mediation
To the just point.

NOTE:
_172 descent transcr. ; descending 1824.

DAEMON:
These trifling contradictions _175
Do not suffice to impugn the unity
Of the high Gods; in things of great importance
They still appear unanimous; consider
That glorious fabric, man,--his workmanship
Is stamped with one conception.

CYPRIAN:
Who made man _180
Must have, methinks, the advantage of the others.
If they are equal, might they not have risen
In opposition to the work, and being
All hands, according to our author here,
Have still destroyed even as the other made? _185
If equal in their power, unequal only
In opportunity, which of the two
Will remain conqueror?

NOTE:
_186 unequal only transcr. ; and only unequal 1824.

DAEMON:
On impossible
And false hypothesis there can be built
No argument. Say, what do you infer _190
From this?

CYPRIAN:
That there must be a mighty God
Of supreme goodness and of highest grace,
All sight, all hands, all truth, infallible,
Without an equal and without a rival,
The cause of all things and the effect of nothing, _195
One power, one will, one substance, and one essence.
And, in whatever persons, one or two,
His attributes may be distinguished, one
Sovereign power, one solitary essence,
One cause of all cause.

NOTE:
_197 And]query, Ay?

[THEY RISE. ]

DAEMON:
How can I impugn _200
So clear a consequence?

NOTE:
_200 all cause 1824; all things transcr.

CYPRIAN:
Do you regret
My victory?

DAEMON:
Who but regrets a check
In rivalry of wit? I could reply
And urge new difficulties, but will now
Depart, for I hear steps of men approaching, _205
And it is time that I should now pursue
My journey to the city.

CYPRIAN:
Go in peace!

DAEMON:
Remain in peace! --Since thus it profits him
To study, I will wrap his senses up
In sweet oblivion of all thought but of _210
A piece of excellent beauty; and, as I
Have power given me to wage enmity
Against Justina's soul, I will extract
From one effect two vengeances.

[ASIDE AND EXIT. ]

NOTE:
_214 Stage direction So transcr. ; Exit 1824.

CYPRIAN:
I never
Met a more learned person. Let me now _215
Revolve this doubt again with careful mind.

[HE READS. ]

[FLORO AND LELIO ENTER. ]

LELIO:
Here stop. These toppling rocks and tangled boughs,
Impenetrable by the noonday beam,
Shall be sole witnesses of what we--

FLORO:
Draw!
If there were words, here is the place for deeds. _220

LELIO:
Thou needest not instruct me; well I know
That in the field, the silent tongue of steel
Speaks thus,--

[THEY FIGHT. ]

CYPRIAN:
Ha! what is this? Lelio,--Floro,
Be it enough that Cyprian stands between you,
Although unarmed.

LELIO:
Whence comest thou, to stand _225
Between me and my vengeance?

FLORO:
From what rocks
And desert cells?

[ENTER MOSCON AND CLARIN. ]

MOSCON:
Run! run! for where we left
My master. I now hear the clash of swords.

NOTES:
_228 I now hear transcr. ; we hear 1824.
_227-_229 lines of otherwise arranged, 1824.

CLARIN:
I never run to approach things of this sort
But only to avoid them. Sir! Cyprian! sir! _230

CYPRIAN:
Be silent, fellows! What! two friends who are
In blood and fame the eyes and hope of Antioch,
One of the noble race of the Colalti,
The other son o' the Governor, adventure
And cast away, on some slight cause no doubt, _235
Two lives, the honour of their country?

NOTE:
_233 race transcr. ; men 1824. Colalti]Colatti 1824.

LELIO:
Cyprian!
Although my high respect towards your person
Holds now my sword suspended, thou canst not
Restore it to the slumber of the scabbard:
Thou knowest more of science than the duel; _240
For when two men of honour take the field,
No counsel nor respect can make them friends
But one must die in the dispute.

NOTE:
_239 of the transcr. ; of its 1824.
_242 No counsel nor 1839, 1st edition;
No [. . . ] or 1824; No reasoning or transcr.
_243 dispute transcr. pursuit 1824.

FLORO:
I pray
That you depart hence with your people, and
Leave us to finish what we have begun _245
Without advantage. --

CYPRIAN:
Though you may imagine
That I know little of the laws of duel,
Which vanity and valour instituted,
You are in error. By my birth I am
Held no less than yourselves to know the limits _250
Of honour and of infamy, nor has study
Quenched the free spirit which first ordered them;
And thus to me, as one well experienced
In the false quicksands of the sea of honour,
You may refer the merits of the case; _255
And if I should perceive in your relation
That either has the right to satisfaction
From the other, I give you my word of honour
To leave you.

NOTE:
_253 well omit, cj. Forman.

LELIO:
Under this condition then
I will relate the cause, and you will cede _260
And must confess the impossibility
Of compromise; for the same lady is
Beloved by Floro and myself.

FLORO:
It seems
Much to me that the light of day should look
Upon that idol of my heart--but he-- _265
Leave us to fight, according to thy word.

CYPRIAN:
Permit one question further: is the lady
Impossible to hope or not?

LELIO:
She is
So excellent, that if the light of day
Should excite Floro's jealousy, it were _270
Without just cause, for even the light of day
Trembles to gaze on her.

CYPRIAN:
Would you for your
Part, marry her?

FLORO:
Such is my confidence.

CYPRIAN:
And you?

LELIO:
Oh! would that I could lift my hope
So high, for though she is extremely poor, _275
Her virtue is her dowry.

CYPRIAN:
And if you both
Would marry her, is it not weak and vain,
Culpable and unworthy, thus beforehand
To slur her honour? What would the world say
If one should slay the other, and if she _280
Should afterwards espouse the murderer?

[THE RIVALS AGREE TO REFER THEIR QUARREL TO CYPRIAN; WHO IN CONSEQUENCE
VISITS JUSTINA, AND BECOMES ENAMOURED OF HER; SHE DISDAINS HIM, AND HE
RETIRES TO A SOLITARY SEA-SHORE. ]


SCENE 2.

CYPRIAN:
O memory! permit it not
That the tyrant of my thought
Be another soul that still
Holds dominion o'er the will,
That would refuse, but can no more, _5
To bend, to tremble, and adore.
Vain idolatry! --I saw,
And gazing, became blind with error;
Weak ambition, which the awe
Of her presence bound to terror! _10
So beautiful she was--and I,
Between my love and jealousy,
Am so convulsed with hope and fear,
Unworthy as it may appear;--
So bitter is the life I live, _15
That, hear me, Hell! I now would give
To thy most detested spirit
My soul, for ever to inherit,
To suffer punishment and pine,
So this woman may be mine. _20
Hear'st thou, Hell! dost thou reject it?
My soul is offered!

DAEMON (UNSEEN):
I accept it.

[TEMPEST, WITH THUNDER AND LIGHTNING. ]

CYPRIAN:
What is this? ye heavens for ever pure,
At once intensely radiant and obscure!
Athwart the aethereal halls _25
The lightning's arrow and the thunder-balls
The day affright,
As from the horizon round,
Burst with earthquake sound,
In mighty torrents the electric fountains;-- _30
Clouds quench the sun, and thunder-smoke
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 _35
The fragments of a single ruin choke
Imagination's flight;
For, on flakes of surge, like feathers light,
The ashes of the desolation, cast
Upon the gloomy blast, _40
Tell of the footsteps of the storm;
And nearer, see, the melancholy form
Of a great ship, the outcast of the sea,
Drives miserably!
And it must fly the pity of the port, _45
Or perish, and its last and sole resort
Is its own raging enemy.
The terror of the thrilling cry
Was a fatal prophecy
Of coming death, who hovers now _50
Upon that shattered prow,
That they who die not may be dying still.
And not alone the insane elements
Are populous with wild portents,
But that sad ship is as a miracle _55
Of sudden ruin, for it drives so fast
It seems as if it had arrayed its form
With the headlong storm.
It strikes--I almost feel the shock,--
It stumbles on a jagged rock,-- _60
Sparkles of blood on the white foam are cast.

[A TEMPEST. ]

ALL EXCLAIM [WITHIN]:
We are all lost!

DAEMON [WITHIN]:
Now from this plank will I
Pass to the land and thus fulfil my scheme.

CYPRIAN:
As in contempt of the elemental rage
A man comes forth in safety, while the ship's _65
Great form is in a watery eclipse
Obliterated from the Oceans page,
And round its wreck the huge sea-monsters sit,
A horrid conclave, and the whistling wave
Is heaped over its carcase, like a grave. _70

[THE DAEMON ENTERS, AS ESCAPED FROM THE SEA. ]

DAEMON [ASIDE]:
It was essential to my purposes
To wake a tumult on the sapphire ocean,
That in this unknown form I might at length
Wipe out the blot of the discomfiture
Sustained upon the mountain, and assail _75
With a new war the soul of Cyprian,
Forging the instruments of his destruction
Even from his love and from his wisdom. --O
Beloved earth, dear mother, in thy bosom
I seek a refuge from the monster who _80
Precipitates itself upon me.

CYPRIAN:
Friend,
Collect thyself; and be the memory
Of thy late suffering, and thy greatest sorrow
But as a shadow of the past,--for nothing
Beneath the circle of the moon, but flows _85
And changes, and can never know repose.

DAEMON:
And who art thou, before whose feet my fate
Has prostrated me?

CYPRIAN:
One who, moved with pity,
Would soothe its stings.

DAEMON:
Oh, that can never be!
No solace can my lasting sorrows find. _90

CYPRIAN:
Wherefore?

DAEMON:
Because my happiness is lost.
Yet I lament what has long ceased to be
The object of desire or memory,
And my life is not life.

CYPRIAN:
Now, since the fury
Of this earthquaking hurricane is still, _95
And the crystalline Heaven has reassumed
Its windless calm so quickly, that it seems
As if its heavy wrath had been awakened
Only to overwhelm that vessel,--speak,
Who art thou, and whence comest thou?

DAEMON:
Far more _100
My coming hither cost, than thou hast seen
Or I can tell. Among my misadventures
This shipwreck is the least. Wilt thou hear?

CYPRIAN:
Speak.

DAEMON:
Since thou desirest, I will then unveil
Myself to thee;--for in myself I am _105
A world of happiness and misery;
This I have lost, and that I must lament
Forever. In my attributes I stood
So high and so heroically great,
In lineage so supreme, and with a genius _110
Which penetrated with a glance the world
Beneath my feet, that, won by my high merit,
A king--whom I may call the King of kings,
Because all others tremble in their pride
Before the terrors of His countenance, _115
In His high palace roofed with brightest gems
Of living light--call them the stars of Heaven--
Named me His counsellor. But the high praise
Stung me with pride and envy, and I rose
In mighty competition, to ascend _120
His seat and place my foot triumphantly
Upon His subject thrones. Chastised, I know
The depth to which ambition falls; too mad
Was the attempt, and yet more mad were now
Repentance of the irrevocable deed:-- _125
Therefore I chose this ruin, with the glory
Of not to be subdued, before the shame
Of reconciling me with Him who reigns
By coward cession. --Nor was I alone,
Nor am I now, nor shall I be alone; _130
And there was hope, and there may still be hope,
For many suffrages among His vassals
Hailed me their lord and king, and many still
Are mine, and many more, perchance shall be.
Thus vanquished, though in fact victorious, _135
I left His seat of empire, from mine eye
Shooting forth poisonous lightning, while my words
With inauspicious thunderings shook Heaven,
Proclaiming vengeance, public as my wrong,
And imprecating on His prostrate slaves _140
Rapine, and death, and outrage. Then I sailed
Over the mighty fabric of the world,--
A pirate ambushed in its pathless sands,
A lynx crouched watchfully among its caves
And craggy shores; and I have wandered over _145
The expanse of these wide wildernesses
In this great ship, whose bulk is now dissolved
In the light breathings of the invisible wind,
And which the sea has made a dustless ruin,
Seeking ever a mountain, through whose forests _150
I seek a man, whom I must now compel
To keep his word with me. I came arrayed
In tempest, and although my power could well
Bridle the forest winds in their career,
For other causes I forbore to soothe _155
Their fury to Favonian gentleness;
I could and would not;
[ASIDE. ]
(thus I wake in him
A love of magic art). Let not this tempest,
Nor the succeeding calm excite thy wonder;
For by my art the sun would turn as pale _160
As his weak sister with unwonted fear;
And in my wisdom are the orbs of Heaven
Written as in a record; I have pierced
The flaming circles of their wondrous spheres
And know them as thou knowest every corner _165
Of this dim spot. Let it not seem to thee
That I boast vainly; wouldst thou that I work
A charm over this waste and savage wood,
This Babylon of crags and aged trees,
Filling its leafy coverts with a horror _170
Thrilling and strange? I am the friendless guest
Of these wild oaks and pines--and as from thee
I have received the hospitality
Of this rude place, I offer thee the fruit
Of years of toil in recompense; whate'er _175
Thy wildest dream presented to thy thought
As object of desire, that shall be thine.

. . .

And thenceforth shall so firm an amity
'Twixt thee and me be, that neither Fortune,
The monstrous phantom which pursues success, _180
That careful miser, that free prodigal,
Who ever alternates, with changeful hand,
Evil and good, reproach and fame; nor Time,
That lodestar of the ages, to whose beam
The winged years speed o'er the intervals _185
Of their unequal revolutions; nor
Heaven itself, whose beautiful bright stars
Rule and adorn the world, can ever make
The least division between thee and me,
Since now I find a refuge in thy favour. _190

NOTES:
_146 wide glassy wildernesses Rossetti.
_150 Seeking forever cj. Forman.
_154 forest]fiercest cj. Rossetti.


SCENE 3.

THE DAEMON TEMPTS JUSTINA, WHO IS A CHRISTIAN.

DAEMON:
Abyss of Hell! I call on thee,
Thou wild misrule of thine own anarchy!
From thy prison-house set free
The spirits of voluptuous death,
That with their mighty breath _5
They may destroy a world of virgin thoughts;
Let her chaste mind with fancies thick as motes
Be peopled from thy shadowy deep,
Till her guiltless fantasy
Full to overflowing be! _10
And with sweetest harmony,
Let birds, and flowers, and leaves, and all things move
To love, only to love.
Let nothing meet her eyes
But signs of Love's soft victories; _15
Let nothing meet her ear
But sounds of Love's sweet sorrow,
So that from faith no succour she may borrow,
But, guided by my spirit blind
And in a magic snare entwined, _20
She may now seek Cyprian.
Begin, while I in silence bind
My voice, when thy sweet song thou hast began.

NOTE:
_18 she may]may she 1824.

A VOICE [WITHIN]:
What is the glory far above
All else in human life?

ALL:
Love! love! _25

[WHILE THESE WORDS ARE SUNG,
THE DAEMON GOES OUT AT ONE DOOR,
AND JUSTINA ENTERS AT ANOTHER. ]

THE FIRST VOICE:
There is no form in which the fire
Of love its traces has impressed not.
Man lives far more in love's desire
Than by life's breath, soon possessed not.
If all that lives must love or die, _30
All shapes on earth, or sea, or sky,
With one consent to Heaven cry
That the glory far above
All else in life is--

ALL:
Love! oh, Love!

JUSTINA:
Thou melancholy Thought which art _35
So flattering and so sweet, to thee
When did I give the liberty
Thus to afflict my heart?
What is the cause of this new Power
Which doth my fevered being move, _40
Momently raging more and more?
What subtle Pain is kindled now
Which from my heart doth overflow
Into my senses? --

NOTE:
_36 flattering Boscombe manuscript; fluttering 1824.