University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—The Same.
Enter Nea with Fairies. They circle the Princess and Leon singing.
CHORUS OF FAIRIES.

Atal.
Oh! ye are glad to-night, ye merry ones,
With a fresh spirit, methinks. What pleasant hap,
New privilege, or wild inheritance,
Works on your wings such fine delirium?
I somewhat marvel at your happiness,
Though happy always; yet your wont is dull
To the extravagant rapture of your mirth,
And your free song to-night.

Nanita.
Extravagant!
Our mirth, fair Queen, is very soberness;
We are the modestest fairies of the wild,
The gravest, quietest, best of little bodies,
That ever made mischief in a neighbor's fold,
And laugh'd to find our own. Why, people call us
The very prudes of faerydom. We shake
Our heads with gravity o'er state affairs,
And sit in council with old Oberon,
Who, when Titania wakes his jealousy,
Will straight prefer our wisdom to his own;—
As, at such times, indeed, he wisely may.

Atal.
Oh! pray you then forgive me! Now I see
That you are sober and quiet as you claim,
Having but little mirth, and, at no season,
Extravagant in its utterance. Your excess
Lay only in my sadness. 'Twas my grief
That made your joy extreme. Your mood,
Thus born of freedom, little sorts with mine,
That grows with my captivity, and glooms
With the dread aspect of my prison-house.

Loline.
Yet is there much to gladden us to-night.
Have we not newly added to our realms
A goodly island, gracious in extent,
Whose beauteous sands, drawn out in lavish scope,
Persuades the moon's best smile upon our revels.

Atal.
If you knew all,—the story of this isle!—
Yet is there something more, or I mistake ye,
For which ye joy to-night.

Careta.
There is! There is!
Rightly you spoke, fair Princess, when you deem'd
Our joy unwonted. We are bless'd to-night,
Beyond our usual measure. You shall hear.
Perchance you know Zelina,—of our tribe,
The sweetest, merriest creature—full of fun,—
But glad to serve, and, with the happiest art,
To make the service pleasant as the will,
That prompts it to compliance. She is here—
Just freed from a captivity like yours;
Since in her sport, by some undreampt mischance,
She smote Titania's favorite nonpareil,
And broke its gossamer wing. The angry Queen,
For this, our little sister's innocent deed,
Doom'd her a prisoner in the zephyr's shell,
Till the first flowers that blossom in the spring
Should speak her into freedom. Till this time
Her fate was pitiful:—to use no wing,
Murmur no more, and mingle not, in song—
See none to comfort—hear no voice of love—
Dance no capricious revel on the sands,
But, with an unresisting sense, to float
On the tumultuous billows, night and morn,
Until the birth of that same flower of spring!
Found on the pleasantest shore beneath the sun,
Where first he soars in brightness from the seas,
We hail'd its presence, and have set her free;
And, from her prison, with delighted wing,
She soars with us to-night.

Lol.
Nor is this all—
Another captive hath to-night been freed,
We had deem'd lost forever to our sports.
This wanton fairy, sporting in the breeze,
Last moon, alone, was taken prisoner
By that same tyrant-king, Onesimarch,
That locks you in; and, 'twere a fit revenge,
That we should join with you, for these same wrongs,
To punish him in turn. Within yon rock,
He seal'd her up in crystal. By some chance,
Not yet discover'd, all her bonds were broke,
And she is here with us. Tinina!—here!
Behold the maiden. Princess. She knows all
The secrets of this tyrant's ocean-towers,
And, for your wand's recovery, will do
Aught that will seem most needful.

Atal.
[To Tinina.]
Fit a barque,
And make thy wing its sail, to waft this Prince
To the same rock that was thy prison late.
Himself will do the rest. 'Tis there, I learn,
My sceptre is sealed up.

Tinina.
The barque is here,
Even with a whisper, and my wing is ready;
Will 't please you go, my Prince?

Atal.
[timidly.]
Wilt thou go, Leon?

Leon.
'Twill please and make me proud.

Lol.
Tinina, hence!
I give thee winds, and waters, and a star,—
I spell thee with a talisman of safety,—
And crown thee with a will and wing of strength;
Go hence in courage, and be bless'd in service;
And when thy task is done, regain our course,
Which now we take toward the Hundred Isles,
That smile in the Southern Cross. We wait thee there.
Princess, we gladden that our offices
Seem worth thy tasking, and shall find delight,
If that they prosper 'neath thy hope and ours.
Wings, be ye up and wheeling—up, I say!

FLIGHT OF FAIRIES, AND CHORUS.
We are they who fly by night,
When the maiden moon is bright,
And the silver beach is spread,
Out on ocean like a thread,
Meetly for a fairy's tread:
When the air of heaven is balm,
When the ocean waves are calm,
And the flowers of earth grow bright,—
We are they who fly by night!

[Exeunt Fairies.
Atal.
Now, Leon, if the task before thee seem
Unsuited to thy human strength,—

Leon.
No more!
Hold me, I pray thee, Princess, as a man
That better loves the struggle that proves manhood,
Than the base sleep that stagnates all his soul.
I seek the adventure.

Atal.
Then, this sylph will guide;—
Will bear thee safely o'er these tumbling gulfs,
To yon tall rock, now beetling black and vast
Above the whiten'd billows. Boldly speed,
Nothing misdoubting, howsoever strange
The thing that rises threatening in thy path.
The mystic ring that wraps thy finger round,
Hath, in itself, a wondrous faculty,
To shield the wearer from the unlicensed power
Of spirits of evil.

Leon.
Atalant, I go,
Having a better talisman of safety,
In service which is noble, and in prayer
To him who checks and may subdue all spirits,
Than in this hoop of magic. See, this cross,
Which crowns the mortal weapon that I wear,
As life is over death!—this is my shield,
As, in the blade, I find my ample sword;
With these I go unfearing.

Atal.
Would thou went'st
With brow serene—with happier thought than now.

Leon.
Heed not the mood of this most heavy heart,
That clouds the brow thou look'st on. Some few days
Will hush the impatient grief that murmuring cries,
Seeking a loved one lost. When I return,
And thou hast led me where my sister lies,
Though she beholds not as I weep beside her,
Still will I strive to thank thee with a blessing,
Whose eyes shall look but love!

Atal.
Till then I live not!

Tinina
sings.
The wind is on the wave, and the billow rolls away,
And the star that is the guide to the voyager is bright,
But the fickle wind may change, should the voyager delay,
And the star beneath the demon cloud may perish from the sight.
The will, and the wing, are both ready while I sing—
And the service that makes music as for love it labors still,
Hath no murmur for the ear, though it whispers still of care,
And implores that the season be not forfeit to the will.
Then away, then away, ere we meet the coming day,
For the dewy haze is rising like a curtain o'er the sea;—
I have winds and waves and star, but they serve us not in war,
And the present bears the flower that's most precious unto me.

Leon.
The delicate song is sung in my behalf,
A counsel spoke in sweetness, as should be
All counsel for the loved one;—fairy, thanks!—
I'm with thee!—sweetest princess, fare thee well!

Atal.
I dare not bid thee go, but if thou wilt,
My heart has but one bidding—soon return.

[Exeunt Leon and Tinina.
Nea.
Sweet mistress!—

Atal.
Come with me to ocean's edge,—
That we may soonest hail his coming back,
Made happy in his safety.

Nea.
This is love!

[Exeunt.