University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

—The Tower. Every compartment and balcony crowded with armed men. Eber, unarmed, on a coign of vantage, halfway up, surveying the storm. Round the base, crowds likewise of armed men; and amongst these, but without armour, Peleg, Korah, and Sidon.
PELEG.
See what it is to rise against the Lord,
And dare His wrath omnipotent! He frowns,
And straight the whirlwinds spread their wings and wreak
Their ravage on ye! Lo! He stamps His foot,
And mighty-mouthëd thunders, roused from sleep,
Come growling from their lairs! Lay down your arms,
Ere they be stricken from your paltry hands,
Or their points turned against ye! On your knees,
And, with your foreheads burrowed in the dust,
Clamour for pardon!

SOME.
Ay, 'twere best! For look!
The Heavens with rage wax purple. Surely, then,
The ground did rock?

OTHERS.
Ay, that it did! But wait!
'Tis but a storm at worst. Prayer will not lay it.
Nay, let us, friends, be valiant to the last,
And bide the upshot.

SIDON.
Yes, 'tis a tempest only.
For Nature hath grown fractious, and contends
Against herself. Eber will tell us why,
When this her wanton mood hath rolled away.
Look where he's perched, and with impassive eye
Scans her vagaries, just as though he were
Carved and incorporate with the edifice!
'Tis a brave sight; and not with looks alone,
But with your deeds commend him. Wait and see
What this explosive termagant, this Nature,
Means by her tears, her gestures, and her shrieks.
These are the empty imprecations hurled
By the infuriate Void. 'Twill pass away,
As violence doth ever. As for prayer,
Think you it would be heard in such a din?
Look on and learn, or else to bed and sleep
Until it's over. Ye can do no more.
Either were something.

[The fierceness of the tempest increases; the thunder rolls louder; and the earth is shaken violently.
PELEG.
On your knees, I say!
And imitate the instinctive fowls that crouch,
When blows the hurricane.

SOME.
What say ye?

OTHERS.
No!
Let us hold on at least till Aran comes.
Where is he, now?

KORAH.
Why, gone, I warrant ye,
To strike a private bargain for himself
With foes he hath provoked and cannot match.

SOME.
Think ye that's so?

OTHERS.
Tush! Korah's jealous tongue
Invents a coward. Aran is as brave
As loftiest cedar that on loftiest top
Of Ararat ne'er budges, though the storm
Tears up the soil it stands on!

KORAH.
But if not,
And Aran seeks no safety for himself,
See to your own! Cry out to Eber there
To crave a parley with the skies. This war,
With its abhorrent front and threatening face,
Against your peaceful destiny offends.
Throw down your arms, and call upon the Heavens
To throw down theirs. Patch up a treaty quick,
And swear the heralds of the upper world
Not to molest ye more, but leave the Earth
To its own shifts and purposes, as ye
Will henceforth leave the spheres. Thus will ye keep
An open Future for yourselves, wherein
Man may pursue uninterruptedly
His pathway to Perfection!

SOME.
Aran comes!
Look where he cleaves the mist!

OTHERS.
And with him brings
The little Irad, who steps bravely out
And lags behind his father's stalwart stride,
No further than one's shadow when one walks
Straightly north-eastward from a western sun.

ALL.
Hail to stout Aran, Builder of the Tower!
Long live man's truest leader!

ARAN.
Was it you,
Or the Heaven's braggart thunders that I heard?
These vultures of the welkin seem to think
To scare us with their shrieking! Ye do well
To pay them noise for noise. Now clash your shields,
So that they cannot fail to know ye are here,
And thrill to meet the vanguard of their strokes,
With such impatience as the bridegroom feels
For the first shock of rapture! [Those at the foot of the Tower clash their shields, and the action is imitated by the armed hosts on each storey in succession, to the very top. Almost simultaneously there is a fresh peal of thunder, louder and longer than any of the preceding ones.

Music for music! But I like yours best!
The Heavens have heard your cymbals clang, and roll
Their drums to answer ye! Now, quick, come forth,
Ye slow supernal athletes, and make good
The tumult of your challenge! We are here,
And Earth's smooth dust is ready to receive
The thud of your celestial overthrow!

[As he speaks, lightning strikes the summit of the Tower, and, amidst the roar of thunder, the topmost storeys with their armed defenders, are hurled headlong through the air, crushing, as they reach the ground, many of those collected at the base; amongst these, Peleg and Sidon. Some of the survivors fly from the ground. Others crowd fearfully round Aran.
ARAN.
Why do ye shake, ye aspen-wooded hearts,
At the first breath of battle? Let them fly,
Those mock-heroic supernumeraries!
What want we with their fluttering pulses here?
They shall be bondsmen when the battle's done,
When ye shall rule as Gods! Hold firm, up there,
On ledge, and balcony, and jutting coign!
Ye have the post of honour now, nor yield
One inch of what ye hold! Dream not to save
Your lives by coming lower! By this spear,
If any thinks to fly from death at top,
He'll find it at the bottom! Do ye deem,
I who have brought this unarmed baby here
To sniff the risky breath of victory,
Will let men shirk the tussle? [He perceives the dead body of Peleg.

Ha! what is this?
Peleg as dead as sacrificial kid!
O empty Priest, how empty art thou now!
But what a pack of blundering combatants
Not to know friend from foe! The clumsy Heavens! [Kicking the body aside.

He is their dead, and they must bury him,
When we've done fighting. What! And Sidon, too!
A stale conclusion to thy arguments!
Priest, and Philosopher, by one blind bolt
Hit and confounded! There is humour then
In these celestial strokes!
[A fresh peal is heard, and several more storeys, injured by the previous shock, are toppled down; Eber among those who fall.
What! struck again!
See! here comes Eber, like a falling star!
He'll soon be out!
Now, death! and ruin! what is this base work?
Come forth, ye skulking Spirits, ye curs of Heaven!
Out from your opaque ambush, and descend
In visible battalions on our points!
This is but cowards' work!

KORAH.
Leave him, friends!
Hear how he raves! It was a madman's hand
Piled up the Tower, a madman who defends.
Away, and keep yourselves for better days!
What's Heaven to you, who still have got the Earth?
'Ware lest ye lose them both!

ARAN.
How, insolent!
Thou wouldst incite my legions to desert,
And march towards the Future! March there thou! [He pierces Korah with his spear, who falls.

But travel unaccompanied! Thou art
Perfected now, for thou hast surely touched
The goal of all things! . . . Now, ye craven imps,
Angel or devils, gods or mercenaries
Of some one God more potent than yourselves!
Slaves of the sky, purveyors of the thunder,
Ye noisy rabble of the clouds! appear
Afront our serried infantry, that we
May drive you homewards, following at your heels!
Dare none of you be patent? Why, I thought
'Twas only women hid behind their veils! [A thunder-crash is heard more violent than any gone before. The ground rocks and splits. Irad, who has till now remained scared but silent by his father's side, utters a cry. Afrael swoops through the air towards him.

Ha! Here is one of them at last! Now, taste
The savour of my spear, which those shall chew
Who follow after thee!

[He strikes at Afrael with his spear, which catches a flash of lightning on its point, and Aran falls, a blackened carcass. Afrael bears Irad into the air. Seeing Aran fall, those still at the base of the Tower fly in all directions, whilst those left above hurry down, and do the same. The storm begins to abate and die away.