Naschina. From the deep earth unto the lurid sky
All things are quiet in the eve's wide eye.
Antonio. The air is still above, and still each leaf,
But loud the grasshopper that sits beneath.
Naschina. And, boy, saw you, when through the forest we
Two came, his name and mine on many a tree
Carved; here, beyond the lake's slow-muffled tread,
In sand his name and mine I've also read.
Antonio. Yonder's the isle in search whereof we came;
The white waves wrap it in a sheet of flame,
And yonder huddling blackness draweth nigh—
The faery ship that swims athwart the sky.
Naschina. Antonio, if I return no more,
Then bid them raise my statue on the shore;
Here where the round waves come, here let them build,
Here, facing to the lake, and no name gild;
A white, dumb thing of tears, here let it stand,
Between the lonely forest and the sand.
Antonio. The boat draws near and near. You heed me not!
Naschina. And when the summer's deep, then to this spot
The Arcadians bring, and bid the stone be raised
As I am standing now—as though I gazed,
One hand brow-shading, far across the night,
And one arm pointing thus, in marble white.
And once a-year let the Arcadians come,
And 'neath it sit, and of the woven sum
Of human sorrow let them moralize;
And let them tell sad histories, till their eyes
All swim with tears.
Antonio.The faery boat's at hand;
You must be gone; the rolling grains of sand
Are 'neath its prow, and crushing shells.
Re-enter Antonio.
Antonio. I would have gone also; but far away
The faery thing flew with her o'er the gray
Slow waters, and the boat and maiden sink
Away from me where mists of evening drink
To ease their world-old thirst along the brink
Of sword-blue waves of calm; while o'er head blink
The mobs of stars in gold and green and blue,
Piercing the quivering waters through and through,
The ageless sentinels who hold their watch
O'er grief. The world drinks sorrow from the beams
And penetration of their eyes.
Where yonder blotch
Of lilac o'er the pulsing water gleams,
Once more those shepherds come. Mayhap some mirth
I'll have. Oh, absent one, 'tis not for dearth
Of grief. And if they say, 'Antonio laughed,'
Say then,—'A popinjay before grief's shaft
Pierced through, chattering from habit in the sun,
Till his last wretchedness was o'er and done.'
A Voice from among the trees. Antonio!
Enter Colin and Thernot.
Thernot.We have resolved to fight.
Antonio. To yonder isle, where never sail was furled,
From whose green banks no living thing may rove,
And see again the happy woodland light,
Naschina's gone, drawn by a thirst of love,
And that was strange; but this is many a world
More wonderful!
Thernot.And we have swords.
Antonio.O night
Of wonders! eve of prodigies!
Colin.Draw! draw!
Antonio (aside). He'll snap his sword.
Thernot.Raised is the lion's paw.
Antonio. Cease! Thernot's wounded, cease! They will not heed.
Fierce thrust! A tardy blossom had the seed,
But heavy fruit. How swift the argument
Of those steel tongues! Crash, swords! Well thrust! Well bent
Aside!—
The wild horns told Almintor's end,
And of Naschina's now they tell—rend! rend!
Oh, heart! Her dirge! With rushing arms the waves
Cast on the sound, on, on. This night of graves,
The spinning stars—the toiling sea—whirl round
My sinking brain!—Cease!—Cease! Heard ye yon sound?
The dirge of her ye love. Cease!—Cease!
