Page:Poet Lore, volume 34, 1923.djvu/44

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30
RADUZ AND MAHULENA

upon that grandeur, which like a shoreless sea is descending on mine own pettiness—that will at last cause madness! My parched brain burns within my head and terrifies me with a thousand insane notions! The silence of those unfathomable distances is more terrifying than the roaring of the storm! The roaring will at last cease, but the silence never. How terrifying is Nature when one gazes unceasingly upon her face! From all things, phantoms eternally emerge! When after a desolating night, day is born, it seems to me that the heavens are opening with a deep wound and that the world is being flooded with blood and flame! . . . And the treetops of those limitless forests there below, in the abyss at my feet, when the wind sets them moving in waves, are like a lake which, dark and mysterious, will assail my cliff, seeking to overthrow it. . . . Already I feel how it quivers; already the anguish of that fall into the voidhas gripped my vitals. . . . O, terrible dizziness! . . . (Covers his eyes.) Ah, now it has passed again. . . . See, a flock of wild doves has risen from the forest! O birds of heaven, whither do ye fly? Mayhap to that unknown realm where justice abides? . . . O tell them there how here I suffer guiltlessly! And no one, noone feels for me! Ye white clouds who proudly sail through the blue, send your showers down upon me and I shall think that ye have wept! (Is silent for a moment.) Ah, my parents, has your love died too? O, pity no longer lives; it has wholly vanished from the world! . . . And yet, yet, . . . one heart knows it. . . . How beautiful she was, white as the moon and gentle as a bird, when she turned her compassionate eyes towards me and her soft palm, and said to me, “Drink!” “O, do not grieve, my my beloved! . . .” Thus she spoke to me. . . O, Mahulena, the sin of evil men is redeemed by thy gentle pity! . . . Would that I had the strong voice of that wind, that I might shout her name into the wide world; then I should awaken every echo of the world, and forests, mountains, caverns, clouds, all would shout with me: ‘‘Mahulena! Mahulena! Mahulena!

Mahulena (Behind the scenes)—Radúz! Radútz! He is calling me! I come!

Radúz.—The beating of my heart is stilled! O joy unutterable! Is it possible? Is it an illusion? O Mahulena!

Mahulena (Appearing).—Radúz, my own! Radúz!

Raduz (Tugging at the chain).—I am fettered, chained to the