University of Virginia Library

Sea-shore. Thales, Homunculus, Nereus.
Thales
(to Homunculus).
I'd take you now to Nereus. His cave's here;
But he's a queer old fellow—an austere
Odd-tempered being—sour and obstinate.
Man above everything he seems to hate—
The human race—he grumbles with such spite
Against us—men with him are never right.
Yet, as the future's present to his view;
And he, at times, has done good to some few,
He's in his way respected.

Homunculus.
At his gate
Let's knock, and test the cross old surly pate.
By what you say of him, there's no great fear
We spill our flame or crack the glass-case here.

Nereus.
Men's voices here? It makes me savage when
I think of the absurdities of men.
Formations, that, 'gainst Nature's laws, would fain
Stretch themselves into gods—but all in vain,
—Doomed in their own damned likeness to remain!
Were it not for my zeal to serve mankind,
I might, in blissful quiet, have reclined
God-like among the gods for ages past;
And what good does there come of it at last?
Things go on all the same, as though I had
Not said a word about them, good or bad.

Thales.
Yet, Ancient of the Sea, with reverence
All look upon thee. Do not drive us hence.
The Flamelet here—shaped like a man, no doubt—
Oh! look on him, who, wandering long about,
Seeks thy advice, which he will, out and out,
Follow.

Nereus.
Advice! what good is it? Men hear
Advice, and then it freezes in the ear.
Though lessoned by the fierce fact o'er and o'er,
Yet men are ever self-willed as before.
Ere for another's wife his snares he wove
Warned I not Paris with a father's love?
As on the Grecian shore the bold youth stood
I told him all that I in spirit viewed:
The thick and stifling smoke, the fire's red breath—
Roof-trees in flames—beneath them murder, death—
The doom of Troy, that for a thousand years
In the recording song hath waked men's fears.
He mocked the prophet, scorned the oracle,
Followed his own wild will and Ilion fell—
A stark, cold, giant corpse. Its pangs had ceased,
And Pindus' eagles welcomed their rich feast.
Ulysses, too.—How often was my theme
Of Circe's wiles and savage Polypheme:
His own delays, the rashness of his train.
Forewarned of all—of all forewarned in vain:
Till, waves relenting, many a peril past,
The wanderer found a friendly shore at last.

Thales.
This to the Wise, this cannot but give pain.
The Good even, tho' it may be all in vain,
Seeks to do good again and yet again.
Whole hundreds of ingratitude are less
In his eyes than one grain of thankfulness.
This is no common case, and your assistance
May serve us. What this spark wants is Existence.
He would enter upon Life. This asks a nice
Discretion, and we come for your advice.

Nereus.
Hush! Break not in on this delicious trance
Of rare delight! Far other care employs
My spirit now than of man's cares or joys.
It is no hour for you to trouble me.
To-night is held a solemn festival,
Where I have hope to meet my daughters all—
The Dorides—the Graces of the sea.
Olympus boasts not, nor Achaia bears
Thro' all her lands, Forms lovelier than theirs,
And then the Movements of the Nymphs of Ocean!
Theirs is the perfect harmony of motion,
As from the Dragons of the wave they spring
To the fleet Coursers of the Ocean King.
While flashing in the moonlight billow's play,
Inseparable from the wave seem they.
One with the element that is their home,
You see them rising with the rising foam.
In coloured play of Venus' pearly car
Comes Galatea, of all now that are,
The loveliest and most beautiful by far;
Who, since on Cyprus Venus ceased to smile,
Is worshipped as the Goddess of the isle,
For ages now inherits as her own
The Temple-city and the Chariot-throne.
Away! and in a holy hour like this,
Oh, break not in upon a father's bliss.
No thought of anger now should stir his heart—
No word of censure from his lips should part.
Away to Proteus! Question the Magician
As to the spark's proposed change of condition.
You thus may learn what transformations he
Must pass through to be anything—to Be.

[Exit, going towards the sea.
Thales
(to Homunculus).
We've not gained much by this step, I should say.
Catch Proteus! Catch him, and he melts away.
If he stands talk, 'twould seem his only bent
To create wonder and bewilderment.
Still you want counsel and advice. He can
Give it. We'll test him. Come on, little man.

[Exeunt.
Moonlight Bay. Sirens, Nereids, and Tritons.
Sirens
(on the rocks above).
What far-off gleam moves o'er the enchanted seas,
As though white sails flowed hither with the breeze,
Lustrous with light? Oh, what a change! Are these
The same wild women of the wave—these, the Nereidés?
Let's chamber down the rocks—perhaps to hear
Their words—at least to look at them more near.

Nereids and Tritons.
In our hands we bring a treasure
That must come to all with pleasure.
See! reflected from the field
Of Chelone's giant shield
Forms of stalwart strength forth spring:
They are gods! and them we bring
With us. Sing, in triumph sing!

Sirens.
Tiny! if you mark their size:
Mighty! if their power you prize.
They in hours of shipwreck save
The sinking sailor from the wave.
Gods! that, in the ancient days,
Worshipped were with prayer and praise.

Nereids and Tritons.

Nereids and Tritons.
Three of them with us we brought,
On the Fourth in vain we call;
He resisted: said he ought,
As the Governor of all,
For the common weal take thought.

Sirens.
Gods 'gainst gods, with scoff and sneer,
Bickering, clash with joke and jeer,
Counsel sage and safe we give,
With All peacefully to live.
All, that can do good, revere.
Them, that can do mischief, fear.

Nereids and Tritons.
There should be Seven of them, sisters and brothers.

Sirens.
There are but Four here. Where are the Three others?

Nereids and Tritons.

Sirens.
Wherever hath been given
A throne of power in heaven—
Sun, moon, or star—where'er
It is, we worship there—
With all of every creed
We pray. It hath its meed.

Nereids and Tritons.
Oh! what glory ours must be,
Leading this festivity.

Sirens.
The Heroes of the ancient days,
Who from this hour forth shall praise?
If, to Greece, the Golden Fleece
They, in happy triumph, brought—
You a greater feat have wrought:
Bringing o'er the joyous main
The Cabiri in your train.

Universal Chorus.
If, to Greece, the Golden Fleece
They, in happy triumph, brought—
You a greater feat have wrought:
Bringing o'er the joyous main
The Cabiri in your train.

[Nereids and Tritons pass on.
Homunculus, Thales, Proteus.
Homunculus.
The stupid things are very like old crocks,
'Gainst which, all covered o'er with grime and dust,
The Antiquarians' hard heads get hard knocks.

Thales.
Well, this is what they wish: the medal must
Be, to bear any price, all over rust.

Proteus
(invisible).
Here the old Fabulist can feed his love
Of wonders with sights well worth thinking of—
Odd, but as idols better to revere.

Thales.
Where art thou, Proteus?

Proteus
(from different places).
Here I am! Here! Here!

Thales
(to Homunculus).
The old buffoon is now at his provoking
Play of cross purposes. Let's have an end
Of this. 'Tis out of place and time this joking—
These tricks on an old traveller. Come, friend!
I know your voice, and how it sounds at distance
When you are at my elbow.

Proteus
(as at a distance).
Fare thee well!

Thales
(aside to Homunculus).
Now flash your light out! Now, with its assistance,
We'll catch him. He's as curious as a fish,
And lured by light, in whatsoever shape:
If you but flash out strong he can't escape.

Homunculus.
I'll flash my light out strongly; but must take
Precaution that the glass-case do not break.

Proteus
(in the form of a giant tortoise).
What's that shines out with charm so exquisite?

Thales
(veiling Homunculus).
If you would see, you must come nearer it.
Grudge not the trouble. Come, I do entreat!
Come, be a man! Come, on a man's two feet.
You want to see a something we have got,
Which we at will may show you, or may not.
We dictate terms.

Proteus
(in a noble form).
Yours still are sophist's tricks.

Thales.
You still change shapes and on none certain fix.

[Unveils Homunculus.
Proteus
(exhibiting astonishment).
A glittering dwarf! A show well worth the seeing:
Never knew creature like it was in being.

Thales.
He wants your counsel—has come a long distance
His object is to get into existence.
He is, by what he told me of his birth,
Miraculously come but half to earth:
A lively spark—has every mental quality;
But, luckless fellow, 'twas his strange fatality,
An active, naked spirit, all alone—
Without a shred of body, blood or bone,
Into the world to be at hazard thrown—
His glass is all he has to steady him:
He wants and wishes body, life, and limb.

Proteus.
True love-child this! a boy that would, I wis,
Make his appearance ere his mother is
Disposed to welcome him.

Thales
(whispering).
Boy? Is't so?
If boy or girl, we really cannot know
Till he puts on life.

Proteus.
Well! let time settle that!
We cannot tell what Fortune's driving at.
For better luck may hap. In the wide sea
Is Life. There, there must the first process be.
There in the little all begin—then seize
The less, and so grow larger by degrees:
Shift to new forms of being—every past
Foretels a future—the more perfect last!

Homunculus.
The breeze brings fragrance with it; and the flow
Of glad green billows, too! I love it so!

Proteus.
No doubt you do; but further on 'twill be
Still pleasanter. And just here, where the land
Ends in a narrow tongue of sparkling strand,
What a delicious breathing from the sea!
Move onward, where the sky seems yet more clear,
And see the gay procession floating near.
Come with me! Come.

Thales.
And me—you must take me.

Homunculus.
A memorable move of Spirits three.