90. 'And I will give thee as a good-will token, The beautiful wand of wealth and happiness; A perfect three-leaved rod of gold unbroken, Whose magic will thy footsteps ever bless; _710 And whatsoever by Jove's voice is spoken Of earthly or divine from its recess, It, like a loving soul, to thee will speak, And more than this, do thou forbear to seek.

91. 'For, dearest child, the divinations high 715 Which thou requirest, 'tis unlawful ever That thou, or any other deity Should understand—and vain were the endeavour; For they are hidden in Jove's mind, and I, In trust of them, have sworn that I would never 720 Betray the counsels of Jove's inmost will To any God—the oath was terrible.

92. 'Then, golden-wanded brother, ask me not To speak the fates by Jupiter designed; But be it mine to tell their various lot 725 To the unnumbered tribes of human-kind. Let good to these, and ill to those be wrought As I dispense—but he who comes consigned By voice and wings of perfect augury To my great shrine, shall find avail in me. 730

93. 'Him will I not deceive, but will assist; But he who comes relying on such birds As chatter vainly, who would strain and twist The purpose of the Gods with idle words, And deems their knowledge light, he shall have missed _735 His road—whilst I among my other hoards His gifts deposit. Yet, O son of May, I have another wondrous thing to say.

96. 'There are three Fates, three virgin Sisters, who Rejoicing in their wind-outspeeding wings, 740 Their heads with flour snowed over white and new, Sit in a vale round which Parnassus flings Its circling skirts—from these I have learned true Vaticinations of remotest things. My father cared not. Whilst they search out dooms, 745 They sit apart and feed on honeycombs.

95. 'They, having eaten the fresh honey, grow Drunk with divine enthusiasm, and utter With earnest willingness the truth they know; But if deprived of that sweet food, they mutter _750 All plausible delusions;—these to you I give;—if you inquire, they will not stutter; Delight your own soul with them:—any man You would instruct may profit if he can.

96. 'Take these and the fierce oxen, Maia's child— 755 O'er many a horse and toil-enduring mule, O'er jagged-jawed lions, and the wild White-tusked boars, o'er all, by field or pool, Of cattle which the mighty Mother mild Nourishes in her bosom, thou shalt rule— 760 Thou dost alone the veil from death uplift— Thou givest not—yet this is a great gift.'

97. Thus King Apollo loved the child of May In truth, and Jove covered their love with joy. Hermes with Gods and Men even from that day 765 Mingled, and wrought the latter much annoy, And little profit, going far astray Through the dun night. Farewell, delightful Boy, Of Jove and Maia sprung,—never by me, Nor thou, nor other songs, shall unremembered be. 770

NOTES: 13 cow-stealing]qy. cattle-stealing? 57 stony Boscombe manuscript. Harvard manuscript; strong edition 1824. 252 neighbouring]neighbour Harvard manuscript. 336 hurl Harvard manuscript, editions 1839; haul edition 1824. 402 Round]Roused edition 1824 only. 488 wrath]ruth Harvard manuscript. 580 heifer-stealing]heifer-killing Harvard manuscript. 673 and like 1839, 1st edition; as of edition 1824, Harvard manuscript. 713 loving]living cj. Rossetti. 761 from Harvard manuscript; of editions 1824, 1839. 764 their love with joy Harvard manuscript; them with love and joy, editions 1824, 1839. 767 going]wandering Harvard manuscript.

***

HOMER'S HYMN TO CASTOR AND POLLUX.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.]

Ye wild-eyed Muses, sing the Twins of Jove, Whom the fair-ankled Leda, mixed in love With mighty Saturn's Heaven-obscuring Child, On Taygetus, that lofty mountain wild, Brought forth in joy: mild Pollux, void of blame, 5 And steed-subduing Castor, heirs of fame. These are the Powers who earth-born mortals save And ships, whose flight is swift along the wave. When wintry tempests o'er the savage sea Are raging, and the sailors tremblingly 10 Call on the Twins of Jove with prayer and vow, Gathered in fear upon the lofty prow, And sacrifice with snow-white lambs,—the wind And the huge billow bursting close behind, Even then beneath the weltering waters bear 15 The staggering ship—they suddenly appear, On yellow wings rushing athwart the sky, And lull the blasts in mute tranquillity, And strew the waves on the white Ocean's bed, Fair omen of the voyage; from toil and dread 20 The sailors rest, rejoicing in the sight, And plough the quiet sea in safe delight.

NOTE: _6 steed-subduing emend. Rossetti; steel-subduing 1839, 2nd edition.

***

HOMER'S HYMN TO THE MOON.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.]

Daughters of Jove, whose voice is melody, Muses, who know and rule all minstrelsy Sing the wide-winged Moon! Around the earth, From her immortal head in Heaven shot forth, Far light is scattered—boundless glory springs; _5 Where'er she spreads her many-beaming wings The lampless air glows round her golden crown.

But when the Moon divine from Heaven is gone Under the sea, her beams within abide, Till, bathing her bright limbs in Ocean's tide, 10 Clothing her form in garments glittering far, And having yoked to her immortal car The beam-invested steeds whose necks on high Curve back, she drives to a remoter sky A western Crescent, borne impetuously. 15 Then is made full the circle of her light, And as she grows, her beams more bright and bright Are poured from Heaven, where she is hovering then, A wonder and a sign to mortal men.

The Son of Saturn with this glorious Power _20 Mingled in love and sleep—to whom she bore Pandeia, a bright maid of beauty rare Among the Gods, whose lives eternal are.

Hail Queen, great Moon, white-armed Divinity, Fair-haired and favourable! thus with thee _25 My song beginning, by its music sweet Shall make immortal many a glorious feat Of demigods, with lovely lips, so well Which minstrels, servants of the Muses, tell.

***

HOMER'S HYMN TO THE SUN.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.]

Offspring of Jove, Calliope, once more To the bright Sun, thy hymn of music pour; Whom to the child of star-clad Heaven and Earth Euryphaessa, large-eyed nymph, brought forth; Euryphaessa, the famed sister fair 5 Of great Hyperion, who to him did bear A race of loveliest children; the young Morn, Whose arms are like twin roses newly born, The fair-haired Moon, and the immortal Sun, Who borne by heavenly steeds his race doth run 10 Unconquerably, illuming the abodes Of mortal Men and the eternal Gods.

Fiercely look forth his awe-inspiring eyes, Beneath his golden helmet, whence arise And are shot forth afar, clear beams of light; 15 His countenance, with radiant glory bright, Beneath his graceful locks far shines around, And the light vest with which his limbs are bound, Of woof aethereal delicately twined, Glows in the stream of the uplifting wind. 20 His rapid steeds soon bear him to the West; Where their steep flight his hands divine arrest, And the fleet car with yoke of gold, which he Sends from bright Heaven beneath the shadowy sea.

***

HOMER'S HYMN TO THE EARTH: MOTHER OF ALL.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.]

O universal Mother, who dost keep From everlasting thy foundations deep, Eldest of things, Great Earth, I sing of thee! All shapes that have their dwelling in the sea, All things that fly, or on the ground divine _5 Live, move, and there are nourished—these are thine; These from thy wealth thou dost sustain; from thee Fair babes are born, and fruits on every tree Hang ripe and large, revered Divinity!

The life of mortal men beneath thy sway _10 Is held; thy power both gives and takes away! Happy are they whom thy mild favours nourish; All things unstinted round them grow and flourish. For them, endures the life-sustaining field Its load of harvest, and their cattle yield _15 Large increase, and their house with wealth is filled. Such honoured dwell in cities fair and free, The homes of lovely women, prosperously; Their sons exult in youth's new budding gladness, And their fresh daughters free from care or sadness, _20 With bloom-inwoven dance and happy song, On the soft flowers the meadow-grass among, Leap round them sporting—such delights by thee Are given, rich Power, revered Divinity.

Mother of gods, thou Wife of starry Heaven, _25 Farewell! be thou propitious, and be given A happy life for this brief melody, Nor thou nor other songs shall unremembered be.

***

HOMER'S HYMN TO MINERVA.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.]

I sing the glorious Power with azure eyes, Athenian Pallas! tameless, chaste, and wise, Tritogenia, town-preserving Maid, Revered and mighty; from his awful head Whom Jove brought forth, in warlike armour dressed, 5 Golden, all radiant! wonder strange possessed The everlasting Gods that Shape to see, Shaking a javelin keen, impetuously Rush from the crest of Aegis-bearing Jove; Fearfully Heaven was shaken, and did move 10 Beneath the might of the Cerulean-eyed; Earth dreadfully resounded, far and wide; And, lifted from its depths, the sea swelled high In purple billows, the tide suddenly Stood still, and great Hyperion's son long time 15 Checked his swift steeds, till, where she stood sublime, Pallas from her immortal shoulders threw The arms divine; wise Jove rejoiced to view. Child of the Aegis-bearer, hail to thee, Nor thine nor others' praise shall unremembered be. 20

***

HOMER'S HYMN TO VENUS.

[Published by Garnett, "Relics of Shelley", 1862; dated 1818.]

[VERSES 1-55, WITH SOME OMISSIONS.]

Muse, sing the deeds of golden Aphrodite, Who wakens with her smile the lulled delight Of sweet desire, taming the eternal kings Of Heaven, and men, and all the living things That fleet along the air, or whom the sea, 5 Or earth, with her maternal ministry, Nourish innumerable, thy delight All seek ... O crowned Aphrodite! Three spirits canst thou not deceive or quell:— Minerva, child of Jove, who loves too well 10 Fierce war and mingling combat, and the fame Of glorious deeds, to heed thy gentle flame. Diana ... golden-shafted queen, Is tamed not by thy smiles; the shadows green Of the wild woods, the bow, the... 15 And piercing cries amid the swift pursuit Of beasts among waste mountains,—such delight Is hers, and men who know and do the right. Nor Saturn's first-born daughter, Vesta chaste, Whom Neptune and Apollo wooed the last, 20 Such was the will of aegis-bearing Jove; But sternly she refused the ills of Love, And by her mighty Father's head she swore An oath not unperformed, that evermore A virgin she would live mid deities 25 Divine: her father, for such gentle ties Renounced, gave glorious gifts—thus in his hall She sits and feeds luxuriously. O'er all In every fane, her honours first arise From men—the eldest of Divinities. 30

These spirits she persuades not, nor deceives, But none beside escape, so well she weaves Her unseen toils; nor mortal men, nor gods Who live secure in their unseen abodes. She won the soul of him whose fierce delight _35 Is thunder—first in glory and in might. And, as she willed, his mighty mind deceiving, With mortal limbs his deathless limbs inweaving, Concealed him from his spouse and sister fair, Whom to wise Saturn ancient Rhea bare. _40 but in return, In Venus Jove did soft desire awaken, That by her own enchantments overtaken, She might, no more from human union free, Burn for a nursling of mortality. _45 For once amid the assembled Deities, The laughter-loving Venus from her eyes

Shot forth the light of a soft starlight smile, And boasting said, that she, secure the while, Could bring at Will to the assembled Gods 50 The mortal tenants of earth's dark abodes, And mortal offspring from a deathless stem She could produce in scorn and spite of them. Therefore he poured desire into her breast Of young Anchises, 55 Feeding his herds among the mossy fountains Of the wide Ida's many-folded mountains,— Whom Venus saw, and loved, and the love clung Like wasting fire her senses wild among.

***

THE CYCLOPS.

A SATYRIC DRAMA TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK OF EURIPIDES.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824; dated 1819. Amongst the Shelley manuscripts at the Bodleian there is a copy, 'practically complete,' which has been collated by Mr. C.D. Locock. See "Examination", etc., 1903, pages 64-70. 'Though legible throughout, and comparatively free from corrections, it has the appearance of being a first draft' (Locock).]

SILENUS. ULYSSES. CHORUS OF SATYRS. THE CYCLOPS.

SILENUS: O Bacchus, what a world of toil, both now And ere these limbs were overworn with age, Have I endured for thee! First, when thou fled'st The mountain-nymphs who nursed thee, driven afar By the strange madness Juno sent upon thee; 5 Then in the battle of the Sons of Earth, When I stood foot by foot close to thy side, No unpropitious fellow-combatant, And, driving through his shield my winged spear, Slew vast Enceladus. Consider now, 10 Is it a dream of which I speak to thee? By Jove it is not, for you have the trophies! And now I suffer more than all before. For when I heard that Juno had devised A tedious voyage for you, I put to sea 15 With all my children quaint in search of you, And I myself stood on the beaked prow And fixed the naked mast; and all my boys Leaning upon their oars, with splash and strain Made white with foam the green and purple sea,— 20 And so we sought you, king. We were sailing Near Malea, when an eastern wind arose, And drove us to this waste Aetnean rock; The one-eyed children of the Ocean God, The man-destroying Cyclopses, inhabit, 25 On this wild shore, their solitary caves, And one of these, named Polypheme. has caught us To be his slaves; and so, for all delight Of Bacchic sports, sweet dance and melody, We keep this lawless giant's wandering flocks. 30 My sons indeed on far declivities, Young things themselves, tend on the youngling sheep, But I remain to fill the water-casks, Or sweeping the hard floor, or ministering Some impious and abominable meal 35 To the fell Cyclops. I am wearied of it! And now I must scrape up the littered floor With this great iron rake, so to receive My absent master and his evening sheep In a cave neat and clean. Even now I see 40 My children tending the flocks hitherward. Ha! what is this? are your Sicinnian measures Even now the same, as when with dance and song You brought young Bacchus to Althaea's halls?

NOTE: _23 waste B.; wild 1824; 'cf. 26, where waste is cancelled for wild' (Locock).

CHORUS OF SATYRS:

STROPHE: Where has he of race divine _45 Wandered in the winding rocks? Here the air is calm and fine For the father of the flocks;— Here the grass is soft and sweet, And the river-eddies meet _50 In the trough beside the cave, Bright as in their fountain wave.— Neither here, nor on the dew Of the lawny uplands feeding? Oh, you come!—a stone at you _55 Will I throw to mend your breeding;— Get along, you horned thing, Wild, seditious, rambling!

EPODE: An Iacchic melody To the golden Aphrodite _60 Will I lift, as erst did I Seeking her and her delight With the Maenads, whose white feet To the music glance and fleet. Bacchus, O beloved, where, _65 Shaking wide thy yellow hair, Wanderest thou alone, afar? To the one-eyed Cyclops, we, Who by right thy servants are, Minister in misery, _70 In these wretched goat-skins clad, Far from thy delights and thee.

SILENUS: Be silent, sons; command the slaves to drive The gathered flocks into the rock-roofed cave.

CHORUS: Go! But what needs this serious haste, O father? _75

SILENUS: I see a Grecian vessel on the coast, And thence the rowers with some general Approaching to this cave.—About their necks Hang empty vessels, as they wanted food, And water-flasks.—Oh, miserable strangers! 80 Whence come they, that they know not what and who My master is, approaching in ill hour The inhospitable roof of Polypheme, And the Cyclopian jaw-bone, man-destroying? Be silent, Satyrs, while I ask and hear 85 Whence coming, they arrive the Aetnean hill.

ULYSSES: Friends, can you show me some clear water-spring, The remedy of our thirst? Will any one Furnish with food seamen in want of it? Ha! what is this? We seem to be arrived _90 At the blithe court of Bacchus. I observe This sportive band of Satyrs near the caves. First let me greet the elder.—Hail!

SILENUS: Hail thou, O Stranger! tell thy country and thy race.

ULYSSES: The Ithacan Ulysses and the king _95 Of Cephalonia.

SILENUS: Oh! I know the man, Wordy and shrewd, the son of Sisyphus.

ULYSSES: I am the same, but do not rail upon me.—

SILENUS: Whence sailing do you come to Sicily?

ULYSSES: From Ilion, and from the Trojan toils. _100

SILENUS: How, touched you not at your paternal shore?

ULYSSES: The strength of tempests bore me here by force.

SILENUS: The self-same accident occurred to me.

ULYSSES: Were you then driven here by stress of weather?

SILENUS: Following the Pirates who had kidnapped Bacchus. _105

ULYSSES: What land is this, and who inhabit it?—

SILENUS: Aetna, the loftiest peak in Sicily.

ULYSSES: And are there walls, and tower-surrounded towns?

SILENUS: There are not.—These lone rocks are bare of men.

ULYSSES: And who possess the land? the race of beasts? _110

SILENUS: Cyclops, who live in caverns, not in houses.

ULYSSES: Obeying whom? Or is the state popular?

SILENUS: Shepherds: no one obeys any in aught.

ULYSSES: How live they? do they sow the corn of Ceres?

SILENUS: On milk and cheese, and on the flesh of sheep. _115

ULYSSES: Have they the Bromian drink from the vine's stream?

SILENUS: Ah! no; they live in an ungracious land.

ULYSSES: And are they just to strangers?—hospitable?

SILENUS: They think the sweetest thing a stranger brings Is his own flesh.

ULYSSES: What! do they eat man's flesh? _120

SILENUS: No one comes here who is not eaten up.

ULYSSES: The Cyclops now—where is he? Not at home?

SILENUS: Absent on Aetna, hunting with his dogs.

ULYSSES: Know'st thou what thou must do to aid us hence?

SILENUS: I know not: we will help you all we can. _125

ULYSSES: Provide us food, of which we are in want.

SILENUS: Here is not anything, as I said, but meat.

ULYSSES: But meat is a sweet remedy for hunger.

SILENUS: Cow's milk there is, and store of curdled cheese.

ULYSSES: Bring out:—I would see all before I bargain. _130

SILENUS: But how much gold will you engage to give?

ULYSSES: I bring no gold, but Bacchic juice.

SILENUS: Oh, joy! Tis long since these dry lips were wet with wine.

ULYSSES: Maron, the son of the God, gave it me.

SILENUS: Whom I have nursed a baby in my arms. _135

ULYSSES: The son of Bacchus, for your clearer knowledge.

SILENUS: Have you it now?—or is it in the ship?

ULYSSES: Old man, this skin contains it, which you see.

SILENUS: Why, this would hardly be a mouthful for me.

ULYSSES: Nay, twice as much as you can draw from thence. _140

SILENUS: You speak of a fair fountain, sweet to me.

ULYSSES: Would you first taste of the unmingled wine?

SILENUS: 'Tis just—tasting invites the purchaser.

ULYSSES: Here is the cup, together with the skin.

SILENUS: Pour: that the draught may fillip my remembrance.

ULYSSES: See! _145

SILENUS: Papaiapax! what a sweet smell it has!

ULYSSES: You see it then?—

SILENUS: By Jove, no! but I smell it.

ULYSSES: Taste, that you may not praise it in words only.

SILENUS: Babai! Great Bacchus calls me forth to dance! Joy! joy!

ULYSSES: Did it flow sweetly down your throat? _150

SILENUS: So that it tingled to my very nails.

ULYSSES: And in addition I will give you gold.

SILENUS: Let gold alone! only unlock the cask.

ULYSSES: Bring out some cheeses now, or a young goat.

SILENUS: That will I do, despising any master. _155 Yes, let me drink one cup, and I will give All that the Cyclops feed upon their mountains.

...

CHORUS: Ye have taken Troy and laid your hands on Helen?

ULYSSES: And utterly destroyed the race of Priam.

...

SILENUS: The wanton wretch! she was bewitched to see 160 The many-coloured anklets and the chain Of woven gold which girt the neck of Paris, And so she left that good man Menelaus. There should be no more women in the world But such as are reserved for me alone.— 165 See, here are sheep, and here are goats, Ulysses, Here are unsparing cheeses of pressed milk; Take them; depart with what good speed ye may; First leaving my reward, the Bacchic dew Of joy-inspiring grapes.

ULYSSES: Ah me! Alas! _170 What shall we do? the Cyclops is at hand! Old man, we perish! whither can we fly?

SILENUS: Hide yourselves quick within that hollow rock.

ULYSSES: 'Twere perilous to fly into the net.

SILENUS: The cavern has recesses numberless; _175 Hide yourselves quick.

ULYSSES: That will I never do! The mighty Troy would be indeed disgraced If I should fly one man. How many times Have I withstood, with shield immovable. Ten thousand Phrygians!—if I needs must die, _180 Yet will I die with glory;—if I live, The praise which I have gained will yet remain.

SILENUS: What, ho! assistance, comrades, haste, assistance!

[THE CYCLOPS, SILENUS, ULYSSES; CHORUS.]

CYCLOPS: What is this tumult? Bacchus is not here, Nor tympanies nor brazen castanets. 185 How are my young lambs in the cavern? Milking Their dams or playing by their sides? And is The new cheese pressed into the bulrush baskets? Speak! I'll beat some of you till you rain tears— Look up, not downwards when I speak to you. 190

SILENUS: See! I now gape at Jupiter himself; I stare upon Orion and the stars.

CYCLOPS: Well, is the dinner fitly cooked and laid?

SILENUS: All ready, if your throat is ready too.

CYCLOPS: Are the bowls full of milk besides?

SILENUS: O'er-brimming; _195 So you may drink a tunful if you will.

CYCLOPS: Is it ewe's milk or cow's milk, or both mixed?—

SILENUS: Both, either; only pray don't swallow me.

CYCLOPS: By no means.— ... What is this crowd I see beside the stalls? _200 Outlaws or thieves? for near my cavern-home I see my young lambs coupled two by two With willow bands; mixed with my cheeses lie Their implements; and this old fellow here Has his bald head broken with stripes.

SILENUS: Ah me! _205 I have been beaten till I burn with fever.

CYCLOPS: By whom? Who laid his fist upon your head?

SILENUS: Those men, because I would not suffer them To steal your goods.

CYCLOPS: Did not the rascals know I am a God, sprung from the race of Heaven? _210

SILENUS: I told them so, but they bore off your things, And ate the cheese in spite of all I said, And carried out the lambs—and said, moreover, They'd pin you down with a three-cubit collar, And pull your vitals out through your one eye, _215 Furrow your back with stripes, then, binding you, Throw you as ballast into the ship's hold, And then deliver you, a slave, to move Enormous rocks, or found a vestibule.

NOTE: _216 Furrow B.; Torture (evidently misread for Furrow) 1824.

CYCLOPS: In truth? Nay, haste, and place in order quickly The cooking-knives, and heap upon the hearth, 221 And kindle it, a great faggot of wood.— As soon as they are slaughtered, they shall fill My belly, broiling warm from the live coals, Or boiled and seethed within the bubbling caldron. 225 I am quite sick of the wild mountain game; Of stags and lions I have gorged enough, And I grow hungry for the flesh of men.

SILENUS: Nay, master, something new is very pleasant After one thing forever, and of late _230 Very few strangers have approached our cave.

ULYSSES: Hear, Cyclops, a plain tale on the other side. We, wanting to buy food, came from our ship Into the neighbourhood of your cave, and here This old Silenus gave us in exchange _235 These lambs for wine, the which he took and drank, And all by mutual compact, without force. There is no word of truth in what he says, For slyly he was selling all your store.

SILENUS: I? May you perish, wretch—

ULYSSES: If I speak false! _240

SILENUS: Cyclops, I swear by Neptune who begot thee, By mighty Triton and by Nereus old, Calypso and the glaucous Ocean Nymphs, The sacred waves and all the race of fishes— Be these the witnesses, my dear sweet master, _245 My darling little Cyclops, that I never Gave any of your stores to these false strangers;— If I speak false may those whom most I love, My children, perish wretchedly!

CHORUS: There stop! I saw him giving these things to the strangers. _250 If I speak false, then may my father perish, But do not thou wrong hospitality.

CYCLOPS: You lie! I swear that he is juster far Than Rhadamanthus—I trust more in him. But let me ask, whence have ye sailed, O strangers? _255 Who are you? And what city nourished ye?

ULYSSES: Our race is Ithacan—having destroyed The town of Troy, the tempests of the sea Have driven us on thy land, O Polypheme.

CYCLOPS: What, have ye shared in the unenvied spoil _260 Of the false Helen, near Scamander's stream?

ULYSSES: The same, having endured a woful toil.

CYCLOPS: Oh, basest expedition! sailed ye not From Greece to Phrygia for one woman's sake?

ULYSSES: 'Twas the Gods' work—no mortal was in fault. _265 But, O great Offspring of the Ocean-King, We pray thee and admonish thee with freedom, That thou dost spare thy friends who visit thee, And place no impious food within thy jaws. For in the depths of Greece we have upreared _270 Temples to thy great Father, which are all His homes. The sacred bay of Taenarus Remains inviolate, and each dim recess Scooped high on the Malean promontory, And aery Sunium's silver-veined crag, _275 Which divine Pallas keeps unprofaned ever, The Gerastian asylums, and whate'er Within wide Greece our enterprise has kept From Phrygian contumely; and in which You have a common care, for you inhabit _280 The skirts of Grecian land, under the roots Of Aetna and its crags, spotted with fire. Turn then to converse under human laws, Receive us shipwrecked suppliants, and provide Food, clothes, and fire, and hospitable gifts; _285 Nor fixing upon oxen-piercing spits Our limbs, so fill your belly and your jaws. Priam's wide land has widowed Greece enough; And weapon-winged murder leaped together Enough of dead, and wives are husbandless, _290 And ancient women and gray fathers wail Their childless age;—if you should roast the rest— And 'tis a bitter feast that you prepare— Where then would any turn? Yet be persuaded; Forgo the lust of your jaw-bone; prefer _295 Pious humanity to wicked will: Many have bought too dear their evil joys.

SILENUS: Let me advise you, do not spare a morsel Of all his flesh. If you should eat his tongue You would become most eloquent, O Cyclops. _300

CYCLOPS: Wealth, my good fellow, is the wise man's God, All other things are a pretence and boast. What are my father's ocean promontories, The sacred rocks whereon he dwells, to me? Stranger, I laugh to scorn Jove's thunderbolt, 305 I know not that his strength is more than mine. As to the rest I care not.—When he pours Rain from above, I have a close pavilion Under this rock, in which I lie supine, Feasting on a roast calf or some wild beast, 310 And drinking pans of milk, and gloriously Emulating the thunder of high Heaven. And when the Thracian wind pours down the snow, I wrap my body in the skins of beasts, Kindle a fire, and bid the snow whirl on. 315 The earth, by force, whether it will or no, Bringing forth grass, fattens my flocks and herds, Which, to what other God but to myself And this great belly, first of deities, Should I be bound to sacrifice? I well know 320 The wise man's only Jupiter is this, To eat and drink during his little day, And give himself no care. And as for those Who complicate with laws the life of man, I freely give them tears for their reward. 325 I will not cheat my soul of its delight, Or hesitate in dining upon you:— And that I may be quit of all demands, These are my hospitable gifts;—fierce fire And yon ancestral caldron, which o'er-bubbling 330 Shall finely cook your miserable flesh. Creep in!—

...

ULYSSES: Ai! ai! I have escaped the Trojan toils, I have escaped the sea, and now I fall Under the cruel grasp of one impious man. 335 O Pallas, Mistress, Goddess, sprung from Jove, Now, now, assist me! Mightier toils than Troy Are these;—I totter on the chasms of peril;— And thou who inhabitest the thrones Of the bright stars, look, hospitable Jove, 340 Upon this outrage of thy deity, Otherwise be considered as no God!

CHORUS (ALONE): For your gaping gulf and your gullet wide, The ravin is ready on every side, The limbs of the strangers are cooked and done; _345 There is boiled meat, and roast meat, and meat from the coal, You may chop it, and tear it, and gnash it for fun, An hairy goat's-skin contains the whole. Let me but escape, and ferry me o'er The stream of your wrath to a safer shore. _350 The Cyclops Aetnean is cruel and bold, He murders the strangers That sit on his hearth, And dreads no avengers To rise from the earth. _355 He roasts the men before they are cold, He snatches them broiling from the coal, And from the caldron pulls them whole, And minces their flesh and gnaws their bone With his cursed teeth, till all be gone. _360 Farewell, foul pavilion: Farewell, rites of dread! The Cyclops vermilion, With slaughter uncloying, Now feasts on the dead, _365 In the flesh of strangers joying!

NOTE: _344 ravin Rossetti; spelt ravine in B., editions 1824, 1839.

ULYSSES: O Jupiter! I saw within the cave Horrible things; deeds to be feigned in words, But not to be believed as being done.

NOTE: _369 not to be believed B.; not believed 1824.

CHORUS: What! sawest thou the impious Polypheme _370 Feasting upon your loved companions now?

ULYSSES: Selecting two, the plumpest of the crowd, He grasped them in his hands.—

CHORUS: Unhappy man!

...

ULYSSES: Soon as we came into this craggy place, Kindling a fire, he cast on the broad hearth 375 The knotty limbs of an enormous oak, Three waggon-loads at least, and then he strewed Upon the ground, beside the red firelight, His couch of pine-leaves; and he milked the cows, And pouring forth the white milk, filled a bowl 380 Three cubits wide and four in depth, as much As would contain ten amphorae, and bound it With ivy wreaths; then placed upon the fire A brazen pot to boil, and made red hot The points of spits, not sharpened with the sickle 385 But with a fruit tree bough, and with the jaws Of axes for Aetnean slaughterings. And when this God-abandoned Cook of Hell Had made all ready, he seized two of us And killed them in a kind of measured manner; 390 For he flung one against the brazen rivets Of the huge caldron, and seized the other By the foot's tendon, and knocked out his brains Upon the sharp edge of the craggy stone: Then peeled his flesh with a great cooking-knife 395 And put him down to roast. The other's limbs He chopped into the caldron to be boiled. And I, with the tears raining from my eyes, Stood near the Cyclops, ministering to him; The rest, in the recesses of the cave, 400 Clung to the rock like bats, bloodless with fear. When he was filled with my companions' flesh, He threw himself upon the ground and sent A loathsome exhalation from his maw. Then a divine thought came to me. I filled 405 The cup of Maron, and I offered him To taste, and said:—'Child of the Ocean God, Behold what drink the vines of Greece produce, The exultation and the joy of Bacchus.' He, satiated with his unnatural food, 410 Received it, and at one draught drank it off, And taking my hand, praised me:—'Thou hast given A sweet draught after a sweet meal, dear guest.' And I, perceiving that it pleased him, filled Another cup, well knowing that the wine 415 Would wound him soon and take a sure revenge. And the charm fascinated him, and I Plied him cup after cup, until the drink Had warmed his entrails, and he sang aloud In concert with my wailing fellow-seamen 420 A hideous discord—and the cavern rung. I have stolen out, so that if you will You may achieve my safety and your own. But say, do you desire, or not, to fly This uncompanionable man, and dwell 425 As was your wont among the Grecian Nymphs Within the fanes of your beloved God? Your father there within agrees to it, But he is weak and overcome with wine, And caught as if with bird-lime by the cup, 430 He claps his wings and crows in doting joy. You who are young escape with me, and find Bacchus your ancient friend; unsuited he To this rude Cyclops.

NOTES: _382 ten cj. Swinburne; four 1824; four cancelled for ten (possibly) B. _387 I confess I do not understand this.—[SHELLEY'S NOTE.] _416 take]grant (as alternative) B.

CHORUS: Oh my dearest friend, That I could see that day, and leave for ever _435 The impious Cyclops.

...

ULYSSES: Listen then what a punishment I have For this fell monster, how secure a flight From your hard servitude.

CHORUS: O sweeter far Than is the music of an Asian lyre _440 Would be the news of Polypheme destroyed.

ULYSSES: Delighted with the Bacchic drink he goes To call his brother Cyclops—who inhabit A village upon Aetna not far off.

CHORUS: I understand, catching him when alone _445 You think by some measure to dispatch him, Or thrust him from the precipice.

NOTE: _446 by some measure 1824; with some measures B.

ULYSSES: Oh no; Nothing of that kind; my device is subtle.

CHORUS: How then? I heard of old that thou wert wise.

ULYSSES: I will dissuade him from this plan, by saying _450 It were unwise to give the Cyclopses This precious drink, which if enjoyed alone Would make life sweeter for a longer time. When, vanquished by the Bacchic power, he sleeps, There is a trunk of olive wood within, _455 Whose point having made sharp with this good sword I will conceal in fire, and when I see It is alight, will fix it, burning yet, Within the socket of the Cyclops' eye And melt it out with fire—as when a man _460 Turns by its handle a great auger round, Fitting the framework of a ship with beams, So will I, in the Cyclops' fiery eye Turn round the brand and dry the pupil up.

CHORUS: Joy! I am mad with joy at your device. _465

ULYSSES: And then with you, my friends, and the old man, We'll load the hollow depth of our black ship, And row with double strokes from this dread shore.

CHORUS: May I, as in libations to a God, Share in the blinding him with the red brand? _470 I would have some communion in his death.

ULYSSES: Doubtless: the brand is a great brand to hold.

CHORUS: Oh! I would lift an hundred waggon-loads, If like a wasp's nest I could scoop the eye out Of the detested Cyclops.

ULYSSES: Silence now! 475 Ye know the close device—and when I call, Look ye obey the masters of the craft. I will not save myself and leave behind My comrades in the cave: I might escape, Having got clear from that obscure recess, 480 But 'twere unjust to leave in jeopardy The dear companions who sailed here with me.

CHORUS: Come! who is first, that with his hand Will urge down the burning brand Through the lids, and quench and pierce _485 The Cyclops' eye so fiery fierce?

SEMICHORUS 1 [SONG WITHIN]: Listen! listen! he is coming, A most hideous discord humming. Drunken, museless, awkward, yelling, Far along his rocky dwelling; _490 Let us with some comic spell Teach the yet unteachable. By all means he must be blinded, If my counsel be but minded.

SEMICHORUS 2: Happy thou made odorous 495 With the dew which sweet grapes weep, To the village hastening thus, Seek the vines that soothe to sleep; Having first embraced thy friend, Thou in luxury without end, 500 With the strings of yellow hair, Of thy voluptuous leman fair, Shalt sit playing on a bed!— Speak! what door is opened?

NOTES: 495 thou cj. Swinburne, Rossetti; those 1824; 'the word is doubtful in B.' (Locock). 500 Thou B.; There 1824.

CYCLOPS: Ha! ha! ha! I'm full of wine, _505 Heavy with the joy divine, With the young feast oversated; Like a merchant's vessel freighted To the water's edge, my crop Is laden to the gullet's top. _510 The fresh meadow grass of spring Tempts me forth thus wandering To my brothers on the mountains, Who shall share the wine's sweet fountains. Bring the cask, O stranger, bring! _515

NOTE: _508 merchant's 1824; merchant B.

CHORUS: One with eyes the fairest Cometh from his dwelling; Some one loves thee, rarest Bright beyond my telling. In thy grace thou shinest 520 Like some nymph divinest In her caverns dewy:— All delights pursue thee, Soon pied flowers, sweet-breathing, Shall thy head be wreathing. 525

ULYSSES: Listen, O Cyclops, for I am well skilled In Bacchus, whom I gave thee of to drink.

CYCLOPS: What sort of God is Bacchus then accounted?

ULYSSES: The greatest among men for joy of life.

CYCLOPS: I gulped him down with very great delight. _530

ULYSSES: This is a God who never injures men.

CYCLOPS: How does the God like living in a skin?

ULYSSES: He is content wherever he is put.

CYCLOPS: Gods should not have their body in a skin.

ULYSSES: If he gives joy, what is his skin to you? _535

CYCLOPS: I hate the skin, but love the wine within.

ULYSSES: Stay here now: drink, and make your spirit glad.

NOTE: _537 Stay here now, drink B.; stay here, now drink 1824.

CYCLOPS: Should I not share this liquor with my brothers?

ULYSSES: Keep it yourself, and be more honoured so.

CYCLOPS: I were more useful, giving to my friends. _540

ULYSSES: But village mirth breeds contests, broils, and blows.

CYCLOPS: When I am drunk none shall lay hands on me.—

ULYSSES: A drunken man is better within doors.

CYCLOPS: He is a fool, who drinking, loves not mirth.

ULYSSES: But he is wise, who drunk, remains at home. _545

CYCLOPS: What shall I do, Silenus? Shall I stay?

SILENUS: Stay—for what need have you of pot companions?

CYCLOPS: Indeed this place is closely carpeted With flowers and grass.

SILENUS: And in the sun-warm noon 'Tis sweet to drink. Lie down beside me now, _550 Placing your mighty sides upon the ground.

CYCLOPS: What do you put the cup behind me for?

SILENUS: That no one here may touch it.

CYCLOPS: Thievish One! You want to drink;—here place it in the midst. And thou, O stranger, tell how art thou called? _555

ULYSSES: My name is Nobody. What favour now Shall I receive to praise you at your hands?

CYCLOPS: I'll feast on you the last of your companions.

ULYSSES: You grant your guest a fair reward, O Cyclops.

CYCLOPS: Ha! what is this? Stealing the wine, you rogue! _560

SILENUS: It was this stranger kissing me because I looked so beautiful.

CYCLOPS: You shall repent For kissing the coy wine that loves you not.

SILENUS: By Jupiter! you said that I am fair.

CYCLOPS: Pour out, and only give me the cup full. _565

SILENUS: How is it mixed? let me observe.

CYCLOPS: Curse you! Give it me so.

SILENUS: Not till I see you wear That coronal, and taste the cup to you.

CYCLOPS: Thou wily traitor!

SILENUS: But the wine is sweet. Ay, you will roar if you are caught in drinking. _570

CYCLOPS: See now, my lip is clean and all my beard.

SILENUS: Now put your elbow right and drink again. As you see me drink—...

CYCLOPS: How now?

SILENUS: Ye Gods, what a delicious gulp!

CYCLOPS: Guest, take it;—you pour out the wine for me. _575

ULYSSES: The wine is well accustomed to my hand.

CYCLOPS: Pour out the wine!

ULYSSES: I pour; only be silent.

CYCLOPS: Silence is a hard task to him who drinks.

ULYSSES: Take it and drink it off; leave not a dreg. Oh that the drinker died with his own draught! _580

CYCLOPS: Papai! the vine must be a sapient plant.

ULYSSES: If you drink much after a mighty feast, Moistening your thirsty maw, you will sleep well; If you leave aught, Bacchus will dry you up.

CYCLOPS: Ho! ho! I can scarce rise. What pure delight! 585 The heavens and earth appear to whirl about Confusedly. I see the throne of Jove And the clear congregation of the Gods. Now if the Graces tempted me to kiss I would not—for the loveliest of them all 590 I would not leave this Ganymede.

SILENUS: Polypheme, I am the Ganymede of Jupiter.

CYCLOPS: By Jove, you are; I bore you off from Dardanus.

...

[ULYSSES AND THE CHORUS.]

ULYSSES: Come, boys of Bacchus, children of high race, This man within is folded up in sleep, _595 And soon will vomit flesh from his fell maw; The brand under the shed thrusts out its smoke, No preparation needs, but to burn out The monster's eye;—but bear yourselves like men.

CHORUS: We will have courage like the adamant rock, _600 All things are ready for you here; go in, Before our father shall perceive the noise.

ULYSSES: Vulcan, Aetnean king! burn out with fire The shining eye of this thy neighbouring monster! And thou, O Sleep, nursling of gloomy Night, 605 Descend unmixed on this God-hated beast, And suffer not Ulysses and his comrades, Returning from their famous Trojan toils, To perish by this man, who cares not either For God or mortal; or I needs must think 610 That Chance is a supreme divinity, And things divine are subject to her power.

NOTE: _606 God-hated 1824; God-hating (as an alternative) B.

CHORUS: Soon a crab the throat will seize Of him who feeds upon his guest, Fire will burn his lamp-like eyes _615 In revenge of such a feast! A great oak stump now is lying In the ashes yet undying. Come, Maron, come! Raging let him fix the doom, _620 Let him tear the eyelid up Of the Cyclops—that his cup May be evil! Oh! I long to dance and revel With sweet Bromian, long desired, _625 In loved ivy wreaths attired; Leaving this abandoned home— Will the moment ever come?

ULYSSES: Be silent, ye wild things! Nay, hold your peace, And keep your lips quite close; dare not to breathe, _630 Or spit, or e'en wink, lest ye wake the monster, Until his eye be tortured out with fire.

CHORUS: Nay, we are silent, and we chaw the air.

ULYSSES: Come now, and lend a hand to the great stake Within—it is delightfully red hot. _635

CHORUS: You then command who first should seize the stake To burn the Cyclops' eye, that all may share In the great enterprise.

SEMICHORUS 1: We are too far; We cannot at this distance from the door Thrust fire into his eye.

SEMICHORUS 2: And we just now _640 Have become lame! cannot move hand or foot.

CHORUS: The same thing has occurred to us,—our ankles Are sprained with standing here, I know not how.

ULYSSES: What, sprained with standing still?

CHORUS: And there is dust Or ashes in our eyes, I know not whence. _645

ULYSSES: Cowardly dogs! ye will not aid me then?

CHORUS: With pitying my own back and my back-bone, And with not wishing all my teeth knocked out, This cowardice comes of itself—but stay, I know a famous Orphic incantation _650 To make the brand stick of its own accord Into the skull of this one-eyed son of Earth.

ULYSSES: Of old I knew ye thus by nature; now I know ye better.—I will use the aid Of my own comrades. Yet though weak of hand _655 Speak cheerfully, that so ye may awaken The courage of my friends with your blithe words.

CHORUS: This I will do with peril of my life, And blind you with my exhortations, Cyclops. Hasten and thrust, 660 And parch up to dust, The eye of the beast Who feeds on his guest. Burn and blind The Aetnean hind! 665 Scoop and draw, But beware lest he claw Your limbs near his maw.

CYCLOPS: Ah me! my eyesight is parched up to cinders.

CHORUS: What a sweet paean! sing me that again! _670

CYCLOPS: Ah me! indeed, what woe has fallen upon me! But, wretched nothings, think ye not to flee Out of this rock; I, standing at the outlet, Will bar the way and catch you as you pass.

CHORUS: What are you roaring out, Cyclops?

CYCLOPS: I perish! _675

CHORUS: For you are wicked.

CYCLOPS: And besides miserable.

CHORUS: What, did you fall into the fire when drunk?

CYCLOPS: 'Twas Nobody destroyed me.

CHORUS: Why then no one Can be to blame.

CYCLOPS: I say 'twas Nobody Who blinded me.

CHORUS: Why then you are not blind. _680

CYCLOPS: I wish you were as blind as I am.

CHORUS: Nay, It cannot be that no one made you blind.

CYCLOPS: You jeer me; where, I ask, is Nobody?

CHORUS: Nowhere, O Cyclops.

CYCLOPS: It was that stranger ruined me:—the wretch _685 First gave me wine and then burned out my eye, For wine is strong and hard to struggle with. Have they escaped, or are they yet within?

CHORUS: They stand under the darkness of the rock And cling to it.

CYCLOPS: At my right hand or left? _690

CHORUS: Close on your right.

CYCLOPS: Where?

CHORUS: Near the rock itself. You have them.

CYCLOPS: Oh, misfortune on misfortune! I've cracked my skull.

CHORUS: Now they escape you—there.

NOTE: _693 So B.; Now they escape you there 1824.

CYCLOPS: Not there, although you say so.

CHORUS: Not on that side.

CYCLOPS: Where then?

CHORUS: They creep about you on your left. _695

CYCLOPS: Ah! I am mocked! They jeer me in my ills.

CHORUS: Not there! he is a little there beyond you.

CYCLOPS: Detested wretch! where are you?

ULYSSES: Far from you I keep with care this body of Ulysses.

CYCLOPS: What do you say? You proffer a new name. _700

ULYSSES: My father named me so; and I have taken A full revenge for your unnatural feast; I should have done ill to have burned down Troy And not revenged the murder of my comrades.

CYCLOPS: Ai! ai! the ancient oracle is accomplished; _705 It said that I should have my eyesight blinded By your coming from Troy, yet it foretold That you should pay the penalty for this By wandering long over the homeless sea.

ULYSSES: I bid thee weep—consider what I say; _710 I go towards the shore to drive my ship To mine own land, o'er the Sicilian wave.

CYCLOPS: Not so, if, whelming you with this huge stone, I can crush you and all your men together; I will descend upon the shore, though blind, _715 Groping my way adown the steep ravine.

CHORUS: And we, the shipmates of Ulysses now, Will serve our Bacchus all our happy lives.

***

EPIGRAMS.

[These four Epigrams were published—numbers 2 and 4 without title—by Mrs. Shelley, "Poetical Works", 1839, 1st edition.]

1.—TO STELLA.

FROM THE GREEK OF PLATO.

Thou wert the morning star among the living, Ere thy fair light had fled;— Now, having died, thou art as Hesperus, giving New splendour to the dead.

2.—KISSING HELENA.

FROM THE GREEK OF PLATO.

Kissing Helena, together With my kiss, my soul beside it Came to my lips, and there I kept it,— For the poor thing had wandered thither, To follow where the kiss should guide it, _5 Oh, cruel I, to intercept it!

3.—SPIRIT OF PLATO.

FROM THE GREEK.

Eagle! why soarest thou above that tomb? To what sublime and star-ypaven home Floatest thou?— I am the image of swift Plato's spirit, Ascending heaven; Athens doth inherit _5 His corpse below.

NOTE: _5 doth Boscombe manuscript; does edition 1839.

4.—CIRCUMSTANCE.

FROM THE GREEK.

A man who was about to hang himself, Finding a purse, then threw away his rope; The owner, coming to reclaim his pelf, The halter found; and used it. So is Hope Changed for Despair—one laid upon the shelf, _5 We take the other. Under Heaven's high cope Fortune is God—all you endure and do Depends on circumstance as much as you.

***

FRAGMENT OF THE ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF ADONIS.

PROM THE GREEK OF BION.

[Published by Forman, "Poetical Works of P. B. S.", 1876.]

I mourn Adonis dead—loveliest Adonis— Dead, dead Adonis—and the Loves lament. Sleep no more, Venus, wrapped in purple woof— Wake violet-stoled queen, and weave the crown Of Death,—'tis Misery calls,—for he is dead. _5

The lovely one lies wounded in the mountains, His white thigh struck with the white tooth; he scarce Yet breathes; and Venus hangs in agony there. The dark blood wanders o'er his snowy limbs, His eyes beneath their lids are lustreless, _10 The rose has fled from his wan lips, and there That kiss is dead, which Venus gathers yet.

A deep, deep wound Adonis... A deeper Venus bears upon her heart. See, his beloved dogs are gathering round— 15 The Oread nymphs are weeping—Aphrodite With hair unbound is wandering through the woods, 'Wildered, ungirt, unsandalled—the thorns pierce Her hastening feet and drink her sacred blood. Bitterly screaming out, she is driven on 20 Through the long vales; and her Assyrian boy, Her love, her husband, calls—the purple blood From his struck thigh stains her white navel now, Her bosom, and her neck before like snow.

Alas for Cytherea—the Loves mourn— 25 The lovely, the beloved is gone!—and now Her sacred beauty vanishes away. For Venus whilst Adonis lived was fair— Alas! her loveliness is dead with him. The oaks and mountains cry, Ai! ai! Adonis! 30 The springs their waters change to tears and weep— The flowers are withered up with grief...

Ai! ai! ... Adonis is dead Echo resounds ... Adonis dead. Who will weep not thy dreadful woe. O Venus? _35 Soon as she saw and knew the mortal wound Of her Adonis—saw the life-blood flow From his fair thigh, now wasting,—wailing loud She clasped him, and cried ... 'Stay, Adonis! Stay, dearest one,... _40 and mix my lips with thine— Wake yet a while, Adonis—oh, but once, That I may kiss thee now for the last time— But for as long as one short kiss may live— Oh, let thy breath flow from thy dying soul _45 Even to my mouth and heart, that I may suck That...'

NOTE: _23 his Rossetti, Dowden, Woodberry; her Boscombe manuscript, Forman.

***

FRAGMENT OF THE ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF BION.

FROM THE GREEK OF MOSCHUS.

[Published from the Hunt manuscripts by Forman, "Poetical Works of P. B. S.", 1876.]

Ye Dorian woods and waves, lament aloud,— Augment your tide, O streams, with fruitless tears, For the beloved Bion is no more. Let every tender herb and plant and flower, From each dejected bud and drooping bloom, 5 Shed dews of liquid sorrow, and with breath Of melancholy sweetness on the wind Diffuse its languid love; let roses blush, Anemones grow paler for the loss Their dells have known; and thou, O hyacinth, 10 Utter thy legend now—yet more, dumb flower, Than 'Ah! alas!'—thine is no common grief— Bion the [sweetest singer] is no more.

NOTE: _2 tears]sorrow (as alternative) Hunt manuscript.

***

FROM THE GREEK OF MOSCHUS.

[Published with "Alastor", 1816.]

Tan ala tan glaukan otan onemos atrema Balle—k.t.l.

When winds that move not its calm surface sweep The azure sea, I love the land no more; The smiles of the serene and tranquil deep Tempt my unquiet mind.—But when the roar Of Ocean's gray abyss resounds, and foam 5 Gathers upon the sea, and vast waves burst, I turn from the drear aspect to the home Of Earth and its deep woods, where, interspersed, When winds blow loud, pines make sweet melody. Whose house is some lone bark, whose toil the sea, 10 Whose prey the wandering fish, an evil lot Has chosen.—But I my languid limbs will fling Beneath the plane, where the brook's murmuring Moves the calm spirit, but disturbs it not.

***

PAN, ECHO, AND THE SATYR.

FROM THE GREEK OF MOSCHUS.

[Published (without title) by Mrs. Shelley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824. There is a draft amongst the Hunt manuscripts.]

Pan loved his neighbour Echo—but that child Of Earth and Air pined for the Satyr leaping; The Satyr loved with wasting madness wild The bright nymph Lyda,—and so three went weeping. As Pan loved Echo, Echo loved the Satyr, 5 The Satyr, Lyda; and so love consumed them.— And thus to each—which was a woful matter— To bear what they inflicted Justice doomed them; For, inasmuch as each might hate the lover, Each, loving, so was hated.—Ye that love not 10 Be warned—in thought turn this example over, That when ye love, the like return ye prove not.

NOTE: 6 so Hunt manuscript; thus 1824. 11 So 1824; This lesson timely in your thoughts turn over, The moral of this song in thought turn over (as alternatives) Hunt manuscript.

***

FROM VERGIL'S TENTH ECLOGUE.

[VERSES 1-26.]

[Published by Rossetti, "Complete Poetical Works of P. B. S.", 1870, from the Boscombe manuscripts now in the Bodleian. Mr. Locock ("Examination", etc., 1903, pages 47-50), as the result of his collation of the same manuscripts, gives a revised and expanded version which we print below.]

Melodious Arethusa, o'er my verse Shed thou once more the spirit of thy stream: Who denies verse to Gallus? So, when thou Glidest beneath the green and purple gleam Of Syracusan waters, mayst thou flow 5 Unmingled with the bitter Doric dew! Begin, and, whilst the goats are browsing now The soft leaves, in our way let us pursue The melancholy loves of Gallus. List! We sing not to the dead: the wild woods knew 10 His sufferings, and their echoes... Young Naiads,...in what far woodlands wild Wandered ye when unworthy love possessed Your Gallus? Not where Pindus is up-piled, Nor where Parnassus' sacred mount, nor where 15 Aonian Aganippe expands... The laurels and the myrtle-copses dim. The pine-encircled mountain, Maenalus, The cold crags of Lycaeus, weep for him; And Sylvan, crowned with rustic coronals, 20 Came shaking in his speed the budding wands And heavy lilies which he bore: we knew Pan the Arcadian.

...

'What madness is this, Gallus? Thy heart's care With willing steps pursues another there.' _25

***

THE SAME.

(As revised by Mr. C.D. Locock.)

Melodious Arethusa, o'er my verse Shed thou once more the spirit of thy stream:

(Two lines missing.)

Who denies verse to Gallus? So, when thou Glidest beneath the green and purple gleam Of Syracusan waters, mayest thou flow _5 Unmingled with the bitter Dorian dew! Begin, and whilst the goats are browsing now The soft leaves, in our song let us pursue The melancholy loves of Gallus. List! We sing not to the deaf: the wild woods knew _10 His sufferings, and their echoes answer... Young Naiades, in what far woodlands wild Wandered ye, when unworthy love possessed Our Gallus? Nor where Pindus is up-piled, Nor where Parnassus' sacred mount, nor where _15 Aonian Aganippe spreads its...

(Three lines missing.)

The laurels and the myrtle-copses dim, The pine-encircled mountain, Maenalus, The cold crags of Lycaeus weep for him.

(Several lines missing.)

'What madness is this, Gallus? thy heart's care, _20 Lycoris, mid rude camps and Alpine snow, With willing step pursues another there.'

(Some lines missing.)

And Sylvan, crowned with rustic coronals, Came shaking in his speed the budding wands And heavy lilies which he bore: we knew 25 Pan the Arcadian with.... ...and said, 'Wilt thou not ever cease? Love cares not. The meadows with fresh streams, the bees with thyme, The goats with the green leaves of budding spring 30 Are saturated not—nor Love with tears.'

***

FROM VERGIL'S FOURTH GEORGIC.

[VERSES 360 ET SEQ.]

[Published by Locock, "Examination", etc., 1903.]

And the cloven waters like a chasm of mountains Stood, and received him in its mighty portal And led him through the deep's untrampled fountains

He went in wonder through the path immortal Of his great Mother and her humid reign _5 And groves profaned not by the step of mortal

Which sounded as he passed, and lakes which rain Replenished not girt round by marble caves 'Wildered by the watery motion of the main

Half 'wildered he beheld the bursting waves _10 Of every stream beneath the mighty earth Phasis and Lycus which the ... sand paves,

[And] The chasm where old Enipeus has its birth And father Tyber and Anienas[?] glow And whence Caicus, Mysian stream, comes forth _15

And rock-resounding Hypanis, and thou Eridanus who bearest like empire's sign Two golden horns upon thy taurine brow

Thou than whom none of the streams divine Through garden-fields and meads with fiercer power, _20 Burst in their tumult on the purple brine

***

SONNET.

FROM THE ITALIAN OF DANTE.

[Published with "Alastor", 1816; reprinted, "Posthumous Poems", 1824.]

DANTE ALIGHIERI TO GUIDO CAVALCANTI:

Guido, I would that Lapo, thou, and I, Led by some strong enchantment, might ascend A magic ship, whose charmed sails should fly With winds at will where'er our thoughts might wend, So that no change, nor any evil chance 5 Should mar our joyous voyage; but it might be, That even satiety should still enhance Between our hearts their strict community: And that the bounteous wizard then would place Vanna and Bice and my gentle love, 10 Companions of our wandering, and would grace With passionate talk, wherever we might rove, Our time, and each were as content and free As I believe that thou and I should be.

_5 So 1824; And 1816.

***

THE FIRST CANZONE OF THE CONVITO.

FROM THE ITALIAN OF DANTE.

[Published by Garnett, "Relics of Shelley", 1862; dated 1820.]

1. Ye who intelligent the Third Heaven move, Hear the discourse which is within my heart, Which cannot be declared, it seems so new. The Heaven whose course follows your power and art, Oh, gentle creatures that ye are! me drew, 5 And therefore may I dare to speak to you, Even of the life which now I live—and yet I pray that ye will hear me when I cry, And tell of mine own heart this novelty; How the lamenting Spirit moans in it, 10 And how a voice there murmurs against her Who came on the refulgence of your sphere.

2. A sweet Thought, which was once the life within This heavy heart, man a time and oft Went up before our Father's feet, and there _15 It saw a glorious Lady throned aloft; And its sweet talk of her my soul did win, So that I said, 'Thither I too will fare.' That Thought is fled, and one doth now appear Which tyrannizes me with such fierce stress, _20 That my heart trembles—ye may see it leap— And on another Lady bids me keep Mine eyes, and says—Who would have blessedness Let him but look upon that Lady's eyes, Let him not fear the agony of sighs. _25

3. This lowly Thought, which once would talk with me Of a bright seraph sitting crowned on high, Found such a cruel foe it died, and so My Spirit wept, the grief is hot even now— And said, Alas for me! how swift could flee 30 That piteous Thought which did my life console! And the afflicted one ... questioning Mine eyes, if such a Lady saw they never, And why they would... I said: 'Beneath those eyes might stand for ever 35 He whom ... regards must kill with... To have known their power stood me in little stead, Those eyes have looked on me, and I am dead.'

4. 'Thou art not dead, but thou hast wandered, Thou Soul of ours, who thyself dost fret,' _40 A Spirit of gentle Love beside me said; For that fair Lady, whom thou dost regret, Hath so transformed the life which thou hast led, Thou scornest it, so worthless art thou made. And see how meek, how pitiful, how staid, _45 Yet courteous, in her majesty she is. And still call thou her Woman in thy thought; Her whom, if thou thyself deceivest not, Thou wilt behold decked with such loveliness, That thou wilt cry [Love] only Lord, lo! here _50 Thy handmaiden, do what thou wilt with her.

5. My song, I fear that thou wilt find but few Who fitly shall conceive thy reasoning Of such hard matter dost thou entertain. Whence, if by misadventure chance should bring 55 Thee to base company, as chance may do, Quite unaware of what thou dost contain, I prithee comfort thy sweet self again, My last delight; tell them that they are dull, And bid them own that thou art beautiful. 60

NOTE: C5. Published with "Epispychidion", 1821.—ED.

***

MATILDA GATHERING FLOWERS.

FROM THE PURGATORIO OF DANTE, CANTO 28, LINES 1-51.

[Published in part (lines 1-8, 22-51) by Medwin, "The Angler in Wales", 1834, "Life of Shelley", 1847; reprinted in full by Garnett, "Relics of Shelley", 1862.]

And earnest to explore within—around— The divine wood, whose thick green living woof Tempered the young day to the sight—I wound

Up the green slope, beneath the forest's roof, With slow, soft steps leaving the mountain's steep, _5 And sought those inmost labyrinths, motion-proof

Against the air, that in that stillness deep And solemn, struck upon my forehead bare, The slow, soft stroke of a continuous...

In which the ... leaves tremblingly were _10 All bent towards that part where earliest The sacred hill obscures the morning air.

Yet were they not so shaken from the rest, But that the birds, perched on the utmost spray, Incessantly renewing their blithe quest, _15

With perfect joy received the early day, Singing within the glancing leaves, whose sound Kept a low burden to their roundelay,

Such as from bough to bough gathers around The pine forest on bleak Chiassi's shore, _20 When Aeolus Sirocco has unbound.

My slow steps had already borne me o'er Such space within the antique wood, that I Perceived not where I entered any more,—

When, lo! a stream whose little waves went by, _25 Bending towards the left through grass that grew Upon its bank, impeded suddenly

My going on. Water of purest hue On earth, would appear turbid and impure Compared with this, whose unconcealing dew, _30

Dark, dark, yet clear, moved under the obscure Eternal shades, whose interwoven looms The rays of moon or sunlight ne'er endure.

I moved not with my feet, but mid the glooms Pierced with my charmed eye, contemplating _35 The mighty multitude of fresh May blooms

Which starred that night, when, even as a thing That suddenly, for blank astonishment, Charms every sense, and makes all thought take wing,—

A solitary woman! and she went _40 Singing and gathering flower after flower, With which her way was painted and besprent.

'Bright lady, who, if looks had ever power To bear true witness of the heart within, Dost bask under the beams of love, come lower _45

Towards this bank. I prithee let me win This much of thee, to come, that I may hear Thy song: like Proserpine, in Enna's glen,

Thou seemest to my fancy, singing here And gathering flowers, as that fair maiden when _50 She lost the Spring, and Ceres her, more dear.

NOTES: 2 The 1862; That 1834. 4, 5 So 1862; Up a green slope, beneath the starry roof, With slow, slow steps— 1834. 6 inmost 1862; leafy 1834. 9 So 1862; The slow, soft stroke of a continuous sleep cj. Rossetti, 1870. 9-28 So 1862; Like the sweet breathing of a child asleep: Already I had lost myself so far Amid that tangled wilderness that I Perceived not where I ventured, but no fear Of wandering from my way disturbed, when nigh A little stream appeared; the grass that grew Thick on its banks impeded suddenly My going on. 1834. 13 the 1862; their cj. Rossetti, 1870. 26 through]the cj. Rossetti. 28 hue 1862; dew 1834. 30 dew 1862; hue 1834. 32 Eternal shades 1862; Of the close boughs 1834. 33 So 1862; No ray of moon or sunshine would endure 1834. 34, 35 So 1862; My feet were motionless, but mid the glooms Darted my charmed eyes—1834. 37 Which 1834; That 1862. 39 So 1834; Dissolves all other thought...1862. 40 So 1862; Appeared a solitary maid—she went 1834. 46 Towards 1862; Unto 1834. 47 thee, to come 1862; thee O come 1834.

***

FRAGMENT.

ADAPTED FROM THE VITA NUOVA OF DANTE.

[Published by Forman, "Poetical Works of P. B. S.", 1876.]

What Mary is when she a little smiles I cannot even tell or call to mind, It is a miracle so new, so rare.

***

UGOLINO.

(Published by Medwin, "Life of Shelley", 1847, with Shelley's corrections in italics [''].—ED.)

INFERNO 33, 22-75.

[Translated by Medwin and corrected by Shelley.]

Now had the loophole of that dungeon, still Which bears the name of Famine's Tower from me, And where 'tis fit that many another will

Be doomed to linger in captivity, Shown through its narrow opening in my cell _5 'Moon after moon slow waning', when a sleep,

'That of the future burst the veil, in dream Visited me. It was a slumber deep And evil; for I saw, or I did seem'

To see, 'that' tyrant Lord his revels keep _10 The leader of the cruel hunt to them, Chasing the wolf and wolf-cubs up the steep

Ascent, that from 'the Pisan is the screen' Of 'Lucca'; with him Gualandi came, Sismondi, and Lanfranchi, 'bloodhounds lean, _15

Trained to the sport and eager for the game Wide ranging in his front;' but soon were seen Though by so short a course, with 'spirits tame,'

The father and 'his whelps' to flag at once, And then the sharp fangs gored their bosoms deep. _20 Ere morn I roused myself, and heard my sons,

For they were with me, moaning in their sleep, And begging bread. Ah, for those darling ones! Right cruel art thou, if thou dost not weep

In thinking of my soul's sad augury; _25 And if thou weepest not now, weep never more! They were already waked, as wont drew nigh

The allotted hour for food, and in that hour Each drew a presage from his dream. When I 'Heard locked beneath me of that horrible tower _30

The outlet; then into their eyes alone I looked to read myself,' without a sign Or word. I wept not—turned within to stone.

They wept aloud, and little Anselm mine, Said—'twas my youngest, dearest little one,— _35 "What ails thee, father? Why look so at thine?"

In all that day, and all the following night, I wept not, nor replied; but when to shine Upon the world, not us, came forth the light

Of the new sun, and thwart my prison thrown _40 Gleamed through its narrow chink, a doleful sight, 'Three faces, each the reflex of my own,

Were imaged by its faint and ghastly ray;' Then I, of either hand unto the bone, Gnawed, in my agony; and thinking they _45

Twas done from sudden pangs, in their excess, All of a sudden raise themselves, and say, "Father! our woes, so great, were yet the less

Would you but eat of us,—twas 'you who clad Our bodies in these weeds of wretchedness; _50 Despoil them'." Not to make their hearts more sad,

I 'hushed' myself. That day is at its close,— Another—still we were all mute. Oh, had The obdurate earth opened to end our woes!

The fourth day dawned, and when the new sun shone, _55 Outstretched himself before me as it rose My Gaddo, saying, "Help, father! hast thou none

For thine own child—is there no help from thee?" He died—there at my feet—and one by one, I saw them fall, plainly as you see me. _60

Between the fifth and sixth day, ere twas dawn, I found 'myself blind-groping o'er the three.' Three days I called them after they were gone.

Famine of grief can get the mastery.

***

SONNET.

FROM THE ITALIAN OF CAVALCANTI.

GUIDO CAVALCANTI TO DANTE ALIGHIERI:

[Published by Forman (who assigns it to 1815), "Poetical Works of P. B. S.", 1876.]

Returning from its daily quest, my Spirit Changed thoughts and vile in thee doth weep to find: It grieves me that thy mild and gentle mind Those ample virtues which it did inherit Has lost. Once thou didst loathe the multitude 5 Of blind and madding men—I then loved thee— I loved thy lofty songs and that sweet mood When thou wert faithful to thyself and me I dare not now through thy degraded state Own the delight thy strains inspire—in vain 10 I seek what once thou wert—we cannot meet And we were wont. Again and yet again Ponder my words: so the false Spirit shall fly And leave to thee thy true integrity.

***

SCENES FROM THE MAGICO PRODIGIOSO.

FROM THE SPANISH OF CALDERON.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824; dated March, 1822. There is a transcript of Scene 1 among the Hunt manuscripts, which has been collated by Mr. Buxton Forman.]

SCENE 1:

ENTER CYPRIAN, DRESSED AS A STUDENT; CLARIN AND MOSCON AS POOR SCHOLARS, WITH BOOKS.

CYPRIAN: In the sweet solitude of this calm place, This intricate wild wilderness of trees And flowers and undergrowth of odorous plants, Leave me; the books you brought out of the house To me are ever best society. _5 And while with glorious festival and song, Antioch now celebrates the consecration Of a proud temple to great Jupiter, And bears his image in loud jubilee To its new shrine, I would consume what still _10 Lives of the dying day in studious thought, Far from the throng and turmoil. You, my friends, Go, and enjoy the festival; it will Be worth your pains. You may return for me When the sun seeks its grave among the billows _15 Which, among dim gray clouds on the horizon, Dance like white plumes upon a hearse;— and here I shall expect you.

NOTES: _14 So transcr.; Be worth the labour, and return for me 1824. _16, _17 So 1824; Hid among dim gray clouds on the horizon Which dance like plumes—transcr., Forman.

MOSCON: I cannot bring my mind, Great as my haste to see the festival Certainly is, to leave you, Sir, without 20 Just saying some three or four thousand words. How is it possible that on a day Of such festivity, you can be content To come forth to a solitary country With three or four old books, and turn your back 25 On all this mirth?

NOTES: 21 thousand transcr.; hundred 1824. 23 be content transcr.; bring your mind 1824.

CLARIN: My master's in the right; There is not anything more tiresome Than a procession day, with troops, and priests, And dances, and all that.

NOTE: _28 and priests transcr.; of men 1824.

MOSCON: From first to last, Clarin, you are a temporizing flatterer; _30 You praise not what you feel but what he does;— Toadeater!

CLARIN: You lie—under a mistake— For this is the most civil sort of lie That can be given to a man's face. I now Say what I think.

CYPRIAN: Enough, you foolish fellows! 35 Puffed up with your own doting ignorance, You always take the two sides of one question. Now go; and as I said, return for me When night falls, veiling in its shadows wide This glorious fabric of the universe. 40

NOTE: _36 doting ignorance transcr.; ignorance and pride 1824.

MOSCON: How happens it, although you can maintain The folly of enjoying festivals, That yet you go there?

CLARIN: Nay, the consequence Is clear:—who ever did what he advises Others to do?—

MOSCON: Would that my feet were wings, _45 So would I fly to Livia.

[EXIT.]

CLARIN: To speak truth, Livia is she who has surprised my heart; But he is more than half-way there.—Soho! Livia, I come; good sport, Livia, soho!

[EXIT.]

CYPRIAN: Now, since I am alone, let me examine 50 The question which has long disturbed my mind With doubt, since first I read in Plinius The words of mystic import and deep sense In which he defines God. My intellect Can find no God with whom these marks and signs 55 Fitly agree. It is a hidden truth Which I must fathom.

[CYPRIAN READS; THE DAEMON, DRESSED IN A COURT DRESS, ENTERS.]

NOTE: _57 Stage Direction: So transcr. Reads. Enter the Devil as a fine gentleman 1824.

DAEMON: Search even as thou wilt, But thou shalt never find what I can hide.

CYPRIAN: What noise is that among the boughs? Who moves? What art thou?—

DAEMON: 'Tis a foreign gentleman. _60 Even from this morning I have lost my way In this wild place; and my poor horse at last, Quite overcome, has stretched himself upon The enamelled tapestry of this mossy mountain, And feeds and rests at the same time. I was _65 Upon my way to Antioch upon business Of some importance, but wrapped up in cares (Who is exempt from this inheritance?) I parted from my company, and lost My way, and lost my servants and my comrades. _70

CYPRIAN: 'Tis singular that even within the sight Of the high towers of Antioch you could lose Your way. Of all the avenues and green paths Of this wild wood there is not one but leads, As to its centre, to the walls of Antioch; _75 Take which you will, you cannot miss your road.

DAEMON: And such is ignorance! Even in the sight Of knowledge, it can draw no profit from it. But as it still is early, and as I Have no acquaintances in Antioch, 80 Being a stranger there, I will even wait The few surviving hours of the day, Until the night shall conquer it. I see Both by your dress and by the books in which You find delight and company, that you 85 Are a great student;—for my part, I feel Much sympathy in such pursuits.

NOTE: _87 in transcr.; with 1824.

CYPRIAN: Have you Studied much?

DAEMON: No,—and yet I know enough Not to be wholly ignorant.

CYPRIAN: Pray, Sir, What science may you know?—

DAEMON: Many.

CYPRIAN: Alas! _90 Much pains must we expend on one alone, And even then attain it not;—but you Have the presumption to assert that you Know many without study.

DAEMON: And with truth. For in the country whence I come the sciences _95 Require no learning,—they are known.

NOTE: _95 come the sciences]come sciences 1824.

CYPRIAN: Oh, would I were of that bright country! for in this The more we study, we the more discover Our ignorance.

DAEMON: It is so true, that I Had so much arrogance as to oppose 100 The chair of the most high Professorship, And obtained many votes, and, though I lost, The attempt was still more glorious, than the failure Could be dishonourable. If you believe not, Let us refer it to dispute respecting 105 That which you know the best, and although I Know not the opinion you maintain, and though It be the true one, I will take the contrary.

NOTE: _106 the transcr.; wanting, 1824.

CYPRIAN: The offer gives me pleasure. I am now Debating with myself upon a passage _110 Of Plinius, and my mind is racked with doubt To understand and know who is the God Of whom he speaks.

DAEMON: It is a passage, if I recollect it right, couched in these words 'God is one supreme goodness, one pure essence, _115 One substance, and one sense, all sight, all hands.'

CYPRIAN: 'Tis true.

DAEMON: What difficulty find you here?

CYPRIAN: I do not recognize among the Gods The God defined by Plinius; if he must Be supreme goodness, even Jupiter _120 Is not supremely good; because we see His deeds are evil, and his attributes Tainted with mortal weakness; in what manner Can supreme goodness be consistent with The passions of humanity?

DAEMON: The wisdom _125 Of the old world masked with the names of Gods The attributes of Nature and of Man; A sort of popular philosophy.

CYPRIAN: This reply will not satisfy me, for Such awe is due to the high name of God 130 That ill should never be imputed. Then, Examining the question with more care, It follows, that the Gods would always will That which is best, were they supremely good. How then does one will one thing, one another? 135 And that you may not say that I allege Poetical or philosophic learning:— Consider the ambiguous responses Of their oracular statues; from two shrines Two armies shall obtain the assurance of 140 One victory. Is it not indisputable That two contending wills can never lead To the same end? And, being opposite, If one be good, is not the other evil? Evil in God is inconceivable; 145 But supreme goodness fails among the Gods Without their union.

NOTE: _133 would transcr.; should 1824.

DAEMON: I deny your major. These responses are means towards some end Unfathomed by our intellectual beam. They are the work of Providence, and more _150 The battle's loss may profit those who lose, Than victory advantage those who win.

CYPRIAN: That I admit; and yet that God should not (Falsehood is incompatible with deity) Assure the victory; it would be enough 155 To have permitted the defeat. If God Be all sight,—God, who had beheld the truth, Would not have given assurance of an end Never to be accomplished: thus, although The Deity may according to his attributes 160 Be well distinguished into persons, yet Even in the minutest circumstance His essence must be one.

NOTE: _157 had transcr.; wanting, 1824.

DAEMON: To attain the end The affections of the actors in the scene Must have been thus influenced by his voice. _165

CYPRIAN: But for a purpose thus subordinate He might have employed Genii, good or evil,— A sort of spirits called so by the learned, Who roam about inspiring good or evil, And from whose influence and existence we _170 May well infer our immortality. Thus God might easily, without descent To a gross falsehood in his proper person, Have moved the affections by this mediation To the just point.

NOTE: _172 descent transcr.; descending 1824.

DAEMON: These trifling contradictions _175 Do not suffice to impugn the unity Of the high Gods; in things of great importance They still appear unanimous; consider That glorious fabric, man,—his workmanship Is stamped with one conception.

CYPRIAN: Who made man 180 Must have, methinks, the advantage of the others. If they are equal, might they not have risen In opposition to the work, and being All hands, according to our author here, Have still destroyed even as the other made? 185 If equal in their power, unequal only In opportunity, which of the two Will remain conqueror?

NOTE: _186 unequal only transcr.; and only unequal 1824.

DAEMON: On impossible And false hypothesis there can be built No argument. Say, what do you infer _190 From this?

CYPRIAN: That there must be a mighty God Of supreme goodness and of highest grace, All sight, all hands, all truth, infallible, Without an equal and without a rival, The cause of all things and the effect of nothing, _195 One power, one will, one substance, and one essence. And, in whatever persons, one or two, His attributes may be distinguished, one Sovereign power, one solitary essence, One cause of all cause.

NOTE: _197 And]query, Ay?

[THEY RISE.]

DAEMON: How can I impugn _200 So clear a consequence?

NOTE: _200 all cause 1824; all things transcr.

CYPRIAN: Do you regret My victory?

DAEMON: Who but regrets a check In rivalry of wit? I could reply And urge new difficulties, but will now Depart, for I hear steps of men approaching, _205 And it is time that I should now pursue My journey to the city.

CYPRIAN: Go in peace!

DAEMON: Remain in peace!—Since thus it profits him To study, I will wrap his senses up In sweet oblivion of all thought but of _210 A piece of excellent beauty; and, as I Have power given me to wage enmity Against Justina's soul, I will extract From one effect two vengeances.

[ASIDE AND EXIT.]

NOTE: _214 Stage direction So transcr.; Exit 1824.

CYPRIAN: I never Met a more learned person. Let me now _215 Revolve this doubt again with careful mind.

[HE READS.]

[FLORO AND LELIO ENTER.]

LELIO: Here stop. These toppling rocks and tangled boughs, Impenetrable by the noonday beam, Shall be sole witnesses of what we—

FLORO: Draw! If there were words, here is the place for deeds. _220

LELIO: Thou needest not instruct me; well I know That in the field, the silent tongue of steel Speaks thus,—

[THEY FIGHT.]

CYPRIAN: Ha! what is this? Lelio,—Floro, Be it enough that Cyprian stands between you, Although unarmed.

LELIO: Whence comest thou, to stand _225 Between me and my vengeance?

FLORO: From what rocks And desert cells?

[ENTER MOSCON AND CLARIN.]

MOSCON: Run! run! for where we left My master. I now hear the clash of swords.

NOTES: _228 I now hear transcr.; we hear 1824. _227-_229 lines of otherwise arranged, 1824.

CLARIN: I never run to approach things of this sort But only to avoid them. Sir! Cyprian! sir! _230

CYPRIAN: Be silent, fellows! What! two friends who are In blood and fame the eyes and hope of Antioch, One of the noble race of the Colalti, The other son o' the Governor, adventure And cast away, on some slight cause no doubt, _235 Two lives, the honour of their country?

NOTE: _233 race transcr.; men 1824. Colalti]Colatti 1824.

LELIO: Cyprian! Although my high respect towards your person Holds now my sword suspended, thou canst not Restore it to the slumber of the scabbard: Thou knowest more of science than the duel; _240 For when two men of honour take the field, No counsel nor respect can make them friends But one must die in the dispute.

NOTE: _239 of the transcr.; of its 1824. _242 No counsel nor 1839, 1st edition; No [...] or 1824; No reasoning or transcr. _243 dispute transcr. pursuit 1824.

FLORO: I pray That you depart hence with your people, and Leave us to finish what we have begun _245 Without advantage.—

CYPRIAN: Though you may imagine That I know little of the laws of duel, Which vanity and valour instituted, You are in error. By my birth I am Held no less than yourselves to know the limits 250 Of honour and of infamy, nor has study Quenched the free spirit which first ordered them; And thus to me, as one well experienced In the false quicksands of the sea of honour, You may refer the merits of the case; 255 And if I should perceive in your relation That either has the right to satisfaction From the other, I give you my word of honour To leave you.

NOTE: _253 well omit, cj. Forman.

LELIO: Under this condition then I will relate the cause, and you will cede _260 And must confess the impossibility Of compromise; for the same lady is Beloved by Floro and myself.

FLORO: It seems Much to me that the light of day should look Upon that idol of my heart—but he— _265 Leave us to fight, according to thy word.

CYPRIAN: Permit one question further: is the lady Impossible to hope or not?

LELIO: She is So excellent, that if the light of day Should excite Floro's jealousy, it were _270 Without just cause, for even the light of day Trembles to gaze on her.

CYPRIAN: Would you for your Part, marry her?

FLORO: Such is my confidence.

CYPRIAN: And you?

LELIO: Oh! would that I could lift my hope So high, for though she is extremely poor, _275 Her virtue is her dowry.

CYPRIAN: And if you both Would marry her, is it not weak and vain, Culpable and unworthy, thus beforehand To slur her honour? What would the world say If one should slay the other, and if she _280 Should afterwards espouse the murderer?

[THE RIVALS AGREE TO REFER THEIR QUARREL TO CYPRIAN; WHO IN CONSEQUENCE VISITS JUSTINA, AND BECOMES ENAMOURED OF HER; SHE DISDAINS HIM, AND HE RETIRES TO A SOLITARY SEA-SHORE.]

SCENE 2.

CYPRIAN: O memory! permit it not That the tyrant of my thought Be another soul that still Holds dominion o'er the will, That would refuse, but can no more, 5 To bend, to tremble, and adore. Vain idolatry!—I saw, And gazing, became blind with error; Weak ambition, which the awe Of her presence bound to terror! 10 So beautiful she was—and I, Between my love and jealousy, Am so convulsed with hope and fear, Unworthy as it may appear;— So bitter is the life I live, 15 That, hear me, Hell! I now would give To thy most detested spirit My soul, for ever to inherit, To suffer punishment and pine, So this woman may be mine. 20 Hear'st thou, Hell! dost thou reject it? My soul is offered!

DAEMON (UNSEEN): I accept it.

[TEMPEST, WITH THUNDER AND LIGHTNING.]

CYPRIAN: What is this? ye heavens for ever pure, At once intensely radiant and obscure! Athwart the aethereal halls 25 The lightning's arrow and the thunder-balls The day affright, As from the horizon round, Burst with earthquake sound, In mighty torrents the electric fountains;— 30 Clouds quench the sun, and thunder-smoke Strangles the air, and fire eclipses Heaven. Philosophy, thou canst not even Compel their causes underneath thy yoke: From yonder clouds even to the waves below 35 The fragments of a single ruin choke Imagination's flight; For, on flakes of surge, like feathers light, The ashes of the desolation, cast Upon the gloomy blast, 40 Tell of the footsteps of the storm; And nearer, see, the melancholy form Of a great ship, the outcast of the sea, Drives miserably! And it must fly the pity of the port, 45 Or perish, and its last and sole resort Is its own raging enemy. The terror of the thrilling cry Was a fatal prophecy Of coming death, who hovers now 50 Upon that shattered prow, That they who die not may be dying still. And not alone the insane elements Are populous with wild portents, But that sad ship is as a miracle 55 Of sudden ruin, for it drives so fast It seems as if it had arrayed its form With the headlong storm. It strikes—I almost feel the shock,— It stumbles on a jagged rock,— 60 Sparkles of blood on the white foam are cast.

[A TEMPEST.]

ALL EXCLAIM [WITHIN]: We are all lost!

DAEMON [WITHIN]: Now from this plank will I Pass to the land and thus fulfil my scheme.

CYPRIAN: As in contempt of the elemental rage A man comes forth in safety, while the ship's 65 Great form is in a watery eclipse Obliterated from the Oceans page, And round its wreck the huge sea-monsters sit, A horrid conclave, and the whistling wave Is heaped over its carcase, like a grave. 70

[THE DAEMON ENTERS, AS ESCAPED FROM THE SEA.]

DAEMON [ASIDE]: It was essential to my purposes To wake a tumult on the sapphire ocean, That in this unknown form I might at length Wipe out the blot of the discomfiture Sustained upon the mountain, and assail 75 With a new war the soul of Cyprian, Forging the instruments of his destruction Even from his love and from his wisdom.—O Beloved earth, dear mother, in thy bosom I seek a refuge from the monster who 80 Precipitates itself upon me.

CYPRIAN: Friend, Collect thyself; and be the memory Of thy late suffering, and thy greatest sorrow But as a shadow of the past,—for nothing Beneath the circle of the moon, but flows _85 And changes, and can never know repose.

DAEMON: And who art thou, before whose feet my fate Has prostrated me?

CYPRIAN: One who, moved with pity, Would soothe its stings.

DAEMON: Oh, that can never be! No solace can my lasting sorrows find. _90

CYPRIAN: Wherefore?

DAEMON: Because my happiness is lost. Yet I lament what has long ceased to be The object of desire or memory, And my life is not life.

CYPRIAN: Now, since the fury Of this earthquaking hurricane is still, _95 And the crystalline Heaven has reassumed Its windless calm so quickly, that it seems As if its heavy wrath had been awakened Only to overwhelm that vessel,—speak, Who art thou, and whence comest thou?

DAEMON: Far more _100 My coming hither cost, than thou hast seen Or I can tell. Among my misadventures This shipwreck is the least. Wilt thou hear?

CYPRIAN: Speak.

DAEMON: Since thou desirest, I will then unveil Myself to thee;—for in myself I am _105 A world of happiness and misery; This I have lost, and that I must lament Forever. In my attributes I stood So high and so heroically great, In lineage so supreme, and with a genius _110 Which penetrated with a glance the world Beneath my feet, that, won by my high merit, A king—whom I may call the King of kings, Because all others tremble in their pride Before the terrors of His countenance, _115 In His high palace roofed with brightest gems Of living light—call them the stars of Heaven— Named me His counsellor. But the high praise Stung me with pride and envy, and I rose In mighty competition, to ascend _120 His seat and place my foot triumphantly Upon His subject thrones. Chastised, I know The depth to which ambition falls; too mad Was the attempt, and yet more mad were now Repentance of the irrevocable deed:— _125 Therefore I chose this ruin, with the glory Of not to be subdued, before the shame Of reconciling me with Him who reigns By coward cession.—Nor was I alone, Nor am I now, nor shall I be alone; _130 And there was hope, and there may still be hope, For many suffrages among His vassals Hailed me their lord and king, and many still Are mine, and many more, perchance shall be. Thus vanquished, though in fact victorious, _135 I left His seat of empire, from mine eye Shooting forth poisonous lightning, while my words With inauspicious thunderings shook Heaven, Proclaiming vengeance, public as my wrong, And imprecating on His prostrate slaves _140 Rapine, and death, and outrage. Then I sailed Over the mighty fabric of the world,— A pirate ambushed in its pathless sands, A lynx crouched watchfully among its caves And craggy shores; and I have wandered over _145 The expanse of these wide wildernesses In this great ship, whose bulk is now dissolved In the light breathings of the invisible wind, And which the sea has made a dustless ruin, Seeking ever a mountain, through whose forests _150 I seek a man, whom I must now compel To keep his word with me. I came arrayed In tempest, and although my power could well Bridle the forest winds in their career, For other causes I forbore to soothe _155 Their fury to Favonian gentleness; I could and would not; [ASIDE.] (thus I wake in him A love of magic art). Let not this tempest, Nor the succeeding calm excite thy wonder; For by my art the sun would turn as pale _160 As his weak sister with unwonted fear; And in my wisdom are the orbs of Heaven Written as in a record; I have pierced The flaming circles of their wondrous spheres And know them as thou knowest every corner _165 Of this dim spot. Let it not seem to thee That I boast vainly; wouldst thou that I work A charm over this waste and savage wood, This Babylon of crags and aged trees, Filling its leafy coverts with a horror _170 Thrilling and strange? I am the friendless guest Of these wild oaks and pines—and as from thee I have received the hospitality Of this rude place, I offer thee the fruit Of years of toil in recompense; whate'er _175 Thy wildest dream presented to thy thought As object of desire, that shall be thine.

...

And thenceforth shall so firm an amity 'Twixt thee and me be, that neither Fortune, The monstrous phantom which pursues success, _180 That careful miser, that free prodigal, Who ever alternates, with changeful hand, Evil and good, reproach and fame; nor Time, That lodestar of the ages, to whose beam The winged years speed o'er the intervals _185 Of their unequal revolutions; nor Heaven itself, whose beautiful bright stars Rule and adorn the world, can ever make The least division between thee and me, Since now I find a refuge in thy favour. _190

NOTES: _146 wide glassy wildernesses Rossetti. _150 Seeking forever cj. Forman. _154 forest]fiercest cj. Rossetti.

SCENE 3.

THE DAEMON TEMPTS JUSTINA, WHO IS A CHRISTIAN.

DAEMON: Abyss of Hell! I call on thee, Thou wild misrule of thine own anarchy! From thy prison-house set free The spirits of voluptuous death, That with their mighty breath 5 They may destroy a world of virgin thoughts; Let her chaste mind with fancies thick as motes Be peopled from thy shadowy deep, Till her guiltless fantasy Full to overflowing be! 10 And with sweetest harmony, Let birds, and flowers, and leaves, and all things move To love, only to love. Let nothing meet her eyes But signs of Love's soft victories; 15 Let nothing meet her ear But sounds of Love's sweet sorrow, So that from faith no succour she may borrow, But, guided by my spirit blind And in a magic snare entwined, 20 She may now seek Cyprian. Begin, while I in silence bind My voice, when thy sweet song thou hast began.

NOTE: _18 she may]may she 1824.

A VOICE [WITHIN]: What is the glory far above All else in human life?

ALL: Love! love! _25

[WHILE THESE WORDS ARE SUNG, THE DAEMON GOES OUT AT ONE DOOR, AND JUSTINA ENTERS AT ANOTHER.]

THE FIRST VOICE: There is no form in which the fire Of love its traces has impressed not. Man lives far more in love's desire Than by life's breath, soon possessed not. If all that lives must love or die, _30 All shapes on earth, or sea, or sky, With one consent to Heaven cry That the glory far above All else in life is—

ALL: Love! oh, Love!

JUSTINA: Thou melancholy Thought which art 35 So flattering and so sweet, to thee When did I give the liberty Thus to afflict my heart? What is the cause of this new Power Which doth my fevered being move, 40 Momently raging more and more? What subtle Pain is kindled now Which from my heart doth overflow Into my senses?—

NOTE: _36 flattering Boscombe manuscript; fluttering 1824.

ALL: Love! oh, Love!

JUSTINA: 'Tis that enamoured Nightingale 45 Who gives me the reply; He ever tells the same soft tale Of passion and of constancy To his mate, who rapt and fond, Listening sits, a bough beyond. 50

Be silent, Nightingale—no more Make me think, in hearing thee Thus tenderly thy love deplore, If a bird can feel his so, What a man would feel for me. _55 And, voluptuous Vine, O thou Who seekest most when least pursuing,— To the trunk thou interlacest Art the verdure which embracest, And the weight which is its ruin,— _60 No more, with green embraces, Vine, Make me think on what thou lovest,— For whilst thus thy boughs entwine I fear lest thou shouldst teach me, sophist, How arms might be entangled too. _65

Light-enchanted Sunflower, thou Who gazest ever true and tender On the sun's revolving splendour! Follow not his faithless glance With thy faded countenance, 70 Nor teach my beating heart to fear, If leaves can mourn without a tear, How eyes must weep! O Nightingale, Cease from thy enamoured tale,— Leafy Vine, unwreathe thy bower, 75 Restless Sunflower, cease to move,— Or tell me all, what poisonous Power Ye use against me—

NOTES: 58 To]Who to cj. Rossetti. 63 whilst thus Rossetti, Forman, Dowden; whilst thou thus 1824.

ALL: Love! Love! Love!

JUSTINA: It cannot be!—Whom have I ever loved? Trophies of my oblivion and disdain, _80 Floro and Lelio did I not reject? And Cyprian?— [SHE BECOMES TROUBLED AT THE NAME OF CYPRIAN.] Did I not requite him With such severity, that he has fled Where none has ever heard of him again?— Alas! I now begin to fear that this _85 May be the occasion whence desire grows bold, As if there were no danger. From the moment That I pronounced to my own listening heart, 'Cyprian is absent!'—O me miserable! I know not what I feel! [MORE CALMLY.] It must be pity _90 To think that such a man, whom all the world Admired, should be forgot by all the world, And I the cause. [SHE AGAIN BECOMES TROUBLED.] And yet if it were pity, Floro and Lelio might have equal share, For they are both imprisoned for my sake. _95 [CALMLY.] Alas! what reasonings are these? it is Enough I pity him, and that, in vain, Without this ceremonious subtlety. And, woe is me! I know not where to find him now, Even should I seek him through this wide world. _100

NOTE: _89 me miserable]miserable me editions 1839.

[ENTER DAEMON.]

DAEMON: Follow, and I will lead thee where he is.

JUSTINA: And who art thou, who hast found entrance hither, Into my chamber through the doors and locks? Art thou a monstrous shadow which my madness Has formed in the idle air?

DAEMON: No. I am one _105 Called by the Thought which tyrannizes thee From his eternal dwelling; who this day Is pledged to bear thee unto Cyprian.

JUSTINA: So shall thy promise fail. This agony Of passion which afflicts my heart and soul _110 May sweep imagination in its storm; The will is firm.

DAEMON: Already half is done In the imagination of an act. The sin incurred, the pleasure then remains; Let not the will stop half-way on the road. _115

JUSTINA: I will not be discouraged, nor despair, Although I thought it, and although 'tis true That thought is but a prelude to the deed:— Thought is not in my power, but action is: I will not move my foot to follow thee. _120

DAEMON: But a far mightier wisdom than thine own Exerts itself within thee, with such power Compelling thee to that which it inclines That it shall force thy step; how wilt thou then Resist, Justina?

NOTE: _123 inclines]inclines to cj. Rossetti.

JUSTINA: By my free-will.

DAEMON: I _125 Must force thy will.

JUSTINA: It is invincible; It were not free if thou hadst power upon it.

[HE DRAWS, BUT CANNOT MOVE HER.]

DAEMON: Come, where a pleasure waits thee.

JUSTINA: It were bought Too dear.

DAEMON: 'Twill soothe thy heart to softest peace.

JUSTINA: 'Tis dread captivity.

DAEMON: 'Tis joy, 'tis glory. _130

JUSTINA: 'Tis shame, 'tis torment, 'tis despair.

DAEMON: But how Canst thou defend thyself from that or me, If my power drags thee onward?

JUSTINA: My defence Consists in God.

[HE VAINLY ENDEAVOURS TO FORCE HER, AND AT LAST RELEASES HER.]

DAEMON: Woman, thou hast subdued me, Only by not owning thyself subdued. 135 But since thou thus findest defence in God, I will assume a feigned form, and thus Make thee a victim of my baffled rage. For I will mask a spirit in thy form Who will betray thy name to infamy, 140 And doubly shall I triumph in thy loss, First by dishonouring thee, and then by turning False pleasure to true ignominy.