The Judgement of the Flood :: :: University of Virginia Library

Nor men alone:—a Woman in the midst
Shrieked loud to the deaf wilds, and hearts as deaf,
And wild:—for, obvious in the light, the King
His Brother recognized, Azaradel;
And Sodi; and with them was Edna fair.

Had Sodi, then, by force, and, with the aid
Of sovran power, conveyed, from her far home,
The Maid who scorned his love, here now to sate
Passion grown savage since? No—in his heart,
Once good, ruled vengeful Hate where once reigned Love,
That to the incestuous prince was willing now
To sacrifice fair Object, whom he loathed
Still fair to see, still pure . . a blessèd thing.

178

Then paused the Twain, to note what there might chance;
A friendly mound of sand concealed their forms,
And weariness had tamed, and hushed their steeds,
So hard had they been ridden. Thus, by chance,
All they o'erheard, unable to contend
With troop so numerous, lawless, bent on ill.

And Edna pleaded for her virgin rights:
‘Men cruel; men profane; why have ye rapt
Me from the vale of peace, and holiness,
From Armon, and the Family of Seth?
Sodi, thou lovedst me once. Can one who loves,
Who loved me ever, seize by force, by fraud,
My innocence, thus—thus—transporting me,
—Whither?’—

Then Sodi answered her, in scorn,
In irony:

‘Edna; to a monarch's arms—
To future honour, and dominion—Say,
Is this not love?’

‘O save me from such love;’
Cried Edna, falling prostrate on the earth,
‘Father of Heaven, oh, save me from such love.’

‘And I will save thee,’ . . Samiasa said, . .
And forth had rushed, but then his Angel came,
Even Phanuel, and stood before him here,
Restraining him with this admonishment—

‘She shall be saved; for God has heard her prayer.’

Then o'er her bent Azaradel, and raised
The dropping maid.

‘Why shouldst thou fear, who love?
Fair Edna, daughter of translated Enoch,
Named from thy mother, thee I saw in tears,
Then loveliest, at Lamech's burial-tide;
Hopeless of other chance, 'twas my despair
Surprised thee, and with seeming violence,
Hath borne thee from the Patriarch's land away—

179

To Enos bent’

‘Bad city,’ . . then, she cried:
But he:

‘There, with the aid of Tubalcain,
Bride of a Prince, from Amazarah far,
We may both reign, and revel in high joy,
'Till to return it please us, and to wrest
Dominion from her hand, decrepid now,
And hated by the people.’

Here he paused,
As having said too much—but safely more
The traitor might have uttered; for all sense
Had left the Virgin, sunk into a swoon.

‘Ho, Hherem;’ cried Azaradel, . . ‘take charge
Of sleeping Beauty; for without thee, how
Could we for safety answer in these sands?
And if aright I augur, a wild storm
Will waken from the calm of this fair night.’

‘Fear not;’ said Hherem, coming from the train,
‘God-born.’—

‘God-born?’ demurred Azaradel:—
‘Adon's a god to them who so believe;
But not to me.’

‘Not he thy sire.’

‘Who then?—
What, thou?’

‘Now, heed the tale which I will tell—
Fit place, and time, the Desart, and the Night,
For such revealing. 'Tis the Mystery
Of Amazarah. Sit we down, awhile,
About this Fountain in the Wilderness.’

So down they sate in circle; Hherem, then,
To willing listeners thus his tale pursued.