110
In lineage so supreme, and with a genius
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
115
Before the terrors of His countenance,
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
120
In mighty competition, to ascend
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
125
Repentance of the irrevocable deed:—
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,
130
Nor am I now, nor shall I be alone;
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.
135
Thus vanquished, though in fact victorious,
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,
140
And imprecating on His prostrate slaves
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
145
And craggy shores; and I have wandered over
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,
150
Seeking ever a mountain, through whose forests
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,
155
For other causes I forbore to soothe
Their fury to Favonian gentleness;
I could and would not; (thus I wake in him
[Aside.
A love of magic art). Let not this tempest,
Nor the succeeding calm excite thy wonder;
160
For by my art the sun would turn as pale
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
165
And know them as thou knowest every corner
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 agèd trees,
170
Filling its leafy coverts with a horror
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
175
Of years of toil in recompense; whate’er
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,
180
The monstrous phantom which pursues success,
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
185
The wingèd years speed o’er the intervals
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,
190
Since now I find a refuge in thy favour.
SCENE III.—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,
5
That with their mighty breath
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
10
Full to overflowing be!
And with sweetest harmony,
Let birds, and flowers, and leaves, and all things move
To love, only to love.
Let nothing meet her eyes
15
But signs of Love’s soft victories;
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
20
And in a magic snare entwined,
She may now seek Cyprian.
Begin, while I in silence bind
My voice, when thy sweet song thou hast began.
A Voice (within).
What is the glory far above
All else in human life?
All.
25
Love! love!
[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.
30
If all that lives must love or die,
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.
35
Thou melancholy Thought which art
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
40
Which doth my fevered being move,
Momently raging more and more?
What subtle Pain is kindled now
Which from my heart doth overflow
Into my senses?—
All.
Love! oh, Love!
Justina.
45
’Tis that enamoured Nightingale
Who gives me the reply;
He ever tells the same soft tale
Of passion and of constancy
To his mate, who rapt and fond,
50
Listening sits, a bough beyond.
Be silent, Nightingale—no more
Make me think, in hearing thee
Thus tenderly thy love deplore,
If a bird can feel his so,
55
What a man would f
eel for me.
And, voluptuous Vine, O thou
Who seekest most when least pursuing,—
To the trunk thou interlacest
Art the verdure which embracest,
60
And the weight which is its ruin,—
No more, with green embraces, Vine,
Make me think on what thou lovest,—
For whilst thus thy boughs entwine,
I fear lest thou shouldst teach me, sophist,
65
How arms might be entangled too.
Light-enchanted Sunflower, thou
Who gazest ever true and tender
On the sun’s revolving splendour!
Follow not his faithless glance
70
With thy faded countenance,
Nor teach my beating heart to fear,
If leaves can mourn without a tear,
How eyes must weep! O Nightingale,
Cease from thy enamoured tale,—
75
Leafy Vine, unwreathe thy bower,
Restless Sunflower, cease to move,—
Or tell me all, what poisonous Power
Ye use against me—
All.
Love! Love! Love!
Justina. It cannot be!—Whom have I ever loved?
80
Trophies of my oblivion and disdain,
Floro and Lelio did I not reject?
And Cyprian?—
[She becomes troubled at the name of Cyprian.
Did I not requite him
With such severity, that he has fled
Where none has ever heard of him again?—
85
Alas! I now begin to fear that this
May be the occasion whence desire grows bold,
As if there were no danger. From the moment
That I pronounced to my own listening heart,
‘Cyprian is absent!’—O me miserable!
90
I know not what I feel! [More calmly.] It must be pity
To think that such a man, whom all the world
Admired, should be forgot by all the world,
And I the cause.
[She again becomes troubled.
And yet if it were pity,
Floro and Lelio might have equal share,
95
For they are both imprisoned for my sake.
(Calmly.) Alas! what reasonings are these? it is
Enough I pity him, and that, in vain,
Without this ceremonious subtlety.
And, woe is me! I know not where to find him now,
100
Even should I seek him through this wide world.
Enter DAEMON.
Daemon. 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
Has formed in the idle air?
105
Daemon. No. I am one
Called by the Thought which tyrannizes thee
From his eternal dwelling; who this day
Is pledged to bear thee unto Cyprian.
Justina. So shall thy promise fail. This agony
110
Of passion which afflicts my heart and soul
May sweep imagination in its storm;
The will is firm.
Daemon. Already half is done
In the imagination of an act.
The sin incurred, the pleasure then remains;
115
Let not the will stop half-way on the road.
Justina. I will not be discouraged, nor despair,
Although I thought it, and although ’tis true
That thought is but a prelude to the deed:—
Thought is not in my power, but action is:
120
I will not move my foot to follow thee.
Daemon. But a far mightier wisdom than thine own
Exerts itself within thee, with such power
Compelling thee to that which it inclines
That it shall force thy step; how wilt thou then
Resist, Justina?
Justina. By my free-will.
125
Daemon. I
Must force thy will.
Justina. It is invincible;
It were not free if thou hadst power upon it.
[He draws, but cannot move her,
Daemon. Come, where a pleasure waits thee.
Justina. It were bought
Too dear.
Daemon. ’Twill soothe thy heart to softest peace.
Justina. ’Tis dread captivity.
130
Daemon. ’Tis joy, ’tis glory.
Justina. ’Tis shame, ’tis torment, ’tis despair.
Daemon. But how
Canst thou defend thyself from that or me,
If my power drags thee onward?
Justina. My defence
Consists in God.
[He vainly endeavours to force her, and at last releases her.
Daemon. Woman, thou hast subdued me,
135
Only by not owning thyself subdued.
But since thou thus findest defence in God,
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
140
Who will betray thy name to infamy,
And doubly shall I triumph in thy loss,
First by dishonouring thee, and then by turning
False pleasure to true ignominy.
[Exit.
Justina. I
Appeal to Heaven against thee; so that Heaven
145
May scatter thy delusions, and the blot
Upon my fame vanish in idle thought,
Even as flame dies in the envious air,
And as the floweret wanes at morning frost;
And thou shouldst never—But, alas! to whom
150
Do I still speak?—Did not a man but now
Stand here before me?—No, I am alone,
And yet I saw him. Is he gone so quickly?
Or can the heated mind engender shapes
From its own fear? Some terrible and strange
155
Peril is near. Lisander! father! lord!
Livia!—
Enter LISANDER and LIVIA.
Lisander. Oh, my daughter! What?
Livia. What!
Justina. Saw you
A man go forth from my apartment now?—
I scarce contain myself!
Lisander. A man here!
Justina. Have you not seen him?
Livia. No, Lady.
Justina. I saw him.
160
Lisander. ’Tis impossible; the doors
Which led to this apartment were all locked.
Livia (aside). I daresay it was Moscon whom she saw,
For he was locked up in my room.
Lisander. It must
Have been some image of thy fantasy.
165
Such melancholy as thou feedest is
Skilful in forming such in the vain air
Out of the motes and atoms of the day.
Livia. My master’s in the right.
Justina. Oh, would it were
Delusion; but I fear some greater ill.
170
I feel as if out of my bleeding bosom
My heart was torn in fragments; ay,
Some mortal spell is wrought against my frame;
So potent was the charm that, had not God
Shielded my humble innocence from wrong,
175
I should have sought my sorrow and my shame
With willing steps.—Livia, quick, bring my cloak,
For I must seek refuge from these extremes
Even in the temple of the highest God
>
Where secretly the faithful worship.
Livia. Here.
Justina (putting on her cloak). In this, as in a shroud of snow, may I
Quench the consuming fire in which I burn,
Wasting away!
Lisander. And I will go with thee.
Livia. When I once see them safe out of the house
I shall breathe freely.
Justina. So do I confide
In thy just favour, Heaven!
185
Lisander. Let us go.
Justina. Thine is the cause, great God! turn for my sake,
And for Thine own, mercifully to me!
STANZAS FROM CALDERON’S CISMA DE INGLATERRA
I
HAST thou not seen, officious with delight,
Move through the illumined air about the flower
The Bee, that fears to drink its purple light,
Lest danger lurk within that Rose’s bower?
5
Hast thou not marked the moth’s enamoured flight
About the Taper’s flame at evening hour,
Till kindle in that monumental fire
His sunflower wings their own funereal pyre?
II
My heart, its wishes trembling to unfold,
10
Thus round the Rose and Taper hovering came,
And Passion’s slave, Distrust, in ashes cold,
Smothered awhile, but could not quencn the flame,—
Till Love, that grows by disappointment bold,
And Opportunity, had conquered Shame;
15
And like the Bee and Moth, in act to close,
I burned my wings, and settled on the Rose.
SCENES FROM THE FAUST OF GOETHE
SCENE I.—PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. The LORD and the HOST of HEAVEN.
Enter three ARCHANGELS.
Raphael.
THE sun makes music as of old
Amid the rival spheres of Heaven,
On its predestined circle rolled
With thunder speed: the Angels even
5
Draw strength from gazing on its glance,
Though none its meaning fathom may:—
The Complete Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley: (A Modern Library E-Book) Page 112
