Page:Passions 2.pdf/295

My soul again might from its purpose swerve.
(in a loud energetic voice.)
Alwy, awake! Sleepest thou? sleepest thou, Alwy?
(Alwy wakes.) Nay, rouse thyself, and be thou fully waking.
What I would say must have thy mind's full bent;
Must not be spoken to a drowsy ear.

Alwy. (rising quickly.) I fully am awake; I hear, I see,
As in the noon of day.

Ethw. Nay, but thou dost not,
Thy gairish eye looks wildly on the light,
Like a strange visitor.

Alwy. So do the eyes of one pent in the dark,
When sudden light breaks on them, tho' he slept not.
But why, my Lord, at this untimely hour
Are you awake, and come to seek me here?

Ethw. Alwy, I cannot sleep: my mind is toss'd
With many warring thoughts. I am push'd on
To do the very act from which my soul
Has still held back; fate doth compel me to it.

Alwy. Being your fate, who may its power resist?

Ethw. E'en call it so, for it, in truth, must be.
Know'st thou one who would do a ruthless deed,
And do it pitifully?

Alwy. He who will do it surest does it best;
And he who surely strikes, strikes quickly too,
And therefore pitifully strikes. I know
A brawny ruffian, whose firm clenched gripe