Scene II
(The Lake of Swans in the background. The Beautiful
Car is discovered lying on the shore. Enter Count
Julian, Ianthe, and the Virgin Ten).
Count Julian
This car, of Swan-like shape or Crescent Moon,
Was sent by some great Artisan who knew
Well how to fashion things of beauteous shape
Out of the strongest, yet the softest, wood—
Susceptible of polish fine as glass;
For on its varnished sides we can behold
Our faces mirrored back most perfectly
Each, so being represented with Designs
Original—most beautiful—the work
Of some genius too, done in purest gold.
On this side is this beautiful Design;
Eros with Psyche in delusion.
Here, on this other side, is this Design;
Earth pointing Virtue out the way to Heaven.
Bands of attendant Angels hovering nigh.
Within the center of the Car, there is
A large, diaphanous hollow globe of glass,
Rich, crimson-tinged, whirling snow burns into light.
Bright as the noonday sun, pure, vital gas,
Which gives such Moon-like splendor to the globe.
This was the play thing of some Prince or King!
Let loose in some far distant land to fly—
Wafted by God's own breath at this dread hour,
Like an Avenging Angel to destroy,
Bringing glad tidings of great joy to those
Who had been so rebuked in inocence—
Who were God's chosen People, because pure.
Come, let us launch it on the Lake of Swans.
Evora, queen of all the Virgin Ten,
She, being mistress of the light Canoe
At home upon the Fountain of Green Isles,
Where she is called the Queen of Micabou—
Shall make the first voyage in the queenly Barque.
Thus shall Celuta sail out every day,
Wafted in joyful dalliance to the port
Of odorous breezes coming through the Isle,
Shaded at noontime by the Princely Palms
Must canopy the margent of the Lake,
With verdant twilight soothing to the soul.
(They launch the bark upon the lake).
Now let us go into the Bower of Bliss
And seek fair Endea, Prophetess of life.
The Ten Fair Virgins are our captives now—
Sweet Wood-Nymphs of this Dian of the Isle!
Their task is now to minister delight
To you in every possible way they can.
To gather Roses daily in the Bower,
To make the Atar-Gul for your perfumes,
(Wherewith you are to bathe your lily limbs;)
Attend the cygnets in the Valley Reeds;
Gather the Swans' eggs laid upon the Isle;
Make Cymars for themselves of down of Swans,
And Mantilletts of dappled skins of Fawns,
Damasked with prismy down of Humming birds,
Of multicoloured dyes, caught in the Bower;
To fabricate rich articles of dress,
Such as would be an ornament to queens—
Which only queens could buy, (for they are free—
And everything that is theirs—not slaves'—)
Which duties, when imposed, shall be to them
Like loading the purer air with Atar-Gul
From out the Bowers of Heaven.
Ianthe
How glad I am
That all this Island—all this wealth is yours!
Count Julian
But yet t'is like poverty to me
Compared with that inestimable wealth
Shrined in the Casket of Celuta's heart—
(My soul's incarnate Heaven—) pure, virtuous love—
Come let us seek fair Endea in the Bower.
(Exeunt omnes).
