Part 6 (1/2)

CHRYSANTHUS.

And death being past, Would he win your love at last?--

DARIA.

Yes, on that he might rely.

CHRYSANTHUS.

Then I plight my troth that I Will to that reward aspire,-- A poor offering at the fire By those beauteous eyes supplied.

DARIA.

But as you have not yet died, Pray do n't follow me, but retire. [Exit.

CHRYSANTHUS.

In what bosom, at one moment, Oh! ye heavens! e'er met together[6]

Such a host of anxious troubles?

Such a crowd of boding terrors?

Can I be the same calm student Who awhile ago here wended?

To a miracle of beauty, To a fair face now surrendered, I scarce know what brought me hither, I my purpose scarce remember.

What bewitchment, what enchantment, What strange lethargy, what frenzy Can have to my heart, those eyes Such divine delirium sent me?

What divinity, desirous That I should not know the endless Mysteries of the book I carry, In my path such snares presenteth, Seeking from these serious studies To distract me and divert me?

But what 's this I say? One pa.s.sion Accidentally developed, Should not be enough, no, no, From myself myself to sever.

If the violence of one star Draws me to a deity's service, It compels not; for the planets Draw, but force not, the affections.

Free is yet my will, my mind too, Free is still my heart: then let me Try to solve more n.o.ble problems Than the doubts that love presenteth.

And since Claudius, the new Clytie[7]

Of the sun, whose golden tresses Lead him in pursuit, her footsteps Follows through the wood, my servant Having happily too departed, And since yonder rocks where endeth The dark wood in savage wildness Must be the rude rustic shelter Of the Christians who fled thither, I 'll approach them to endeavour To find there Carpophorus:-- He alone, the wise, the learn'ed, Can my understanding rescue From its night-mare dreams and guesses. [Exit.

SCENE III. The extremity of the wood: wild rocks with the entrance to a cave.

Carpophorus comes forth from the cave, but is for a while unseen by Chrysanthus, who enters.

CHRYSANTHUS.

What a labyrinthine thicket Is this place that I have entered!

Nature here takes little trouble, Letting it be seen how perfect Is the beauty that arises Even from nature's careless efforts: Deep within this darksome grotto Which no sunbeam's light can enter, I shall penetrate: it seemeth As if until now it never Had been trod by human footsteps.

There where yonder marge impendeth O'er a streamlet that swift-flying Carries with it the white freshness Of the snows that from the mountains Ever in its waves are melted, Stands almost a skeleton; The sole difference it presenteth To the tree-trunks near it is, That it moves as well as trembles, Slow and gaunt, a living corse.

Oh! thou venerable elder Who, a reason-gifted tree, Mid mere natural trees here dwelleth.--

CARPOPHORUS.

Wo! oh! wo is me!--a Roman!

(At seeing Chrysanthus, he attempts to fly.)

CHRYSANTHUS.

Though a Roman, do not dread me: With no evil end I seek thee.

CARPOPHORUS.

Then what wouldst thou have, thou gentle Roman youth? for thou hast silenced My first fears even by thy presence.

CHRYSANTHUS.