302
THE BRIDE: A DRAMA.
In scamp'ring haste, to gain the nearest shelter.
It were good sport if they should dare to stand.
MIHDOONY.
RASINGA.
Brave Ehleypoolie.
EHLEYPOOLIE.
The pipes and doulas*[1] which have hung so long
In the recess of Dame Artina's garden?
Of all your instruments there are not any
That sound so loud and clear.
RASINGA (sternly).
Let nothing there be changed. Thy witless words
Have struck upon my heart a dismal note,
Depressing all its life and buoyancy.
Alas! my joy is like the shimm'ring brightness
Of moving waves, touch'd by the half-risen moon,
Tracing her narrow pathway on the deep :
Between each brighten'd ridge black darkness lies,
Whilst far on either side, the wat'ry waste
Spreads dim, and vague, and cheerless.
- ↑ * Doulas, a kind of drums, beat on one end by the hand and on the other with a stick.