 | Callirrhoë |  |
Scene I.
—A Bridal Chamber. Astynous and Hylia.Astynous.
O Hylia, my dark and shapely maid,
New bound to me as wife—a bliss too great
For me to grasp, discovered gold in mass
My eager arms are hopeless to contain—
O Hylia, thy silence slits my heart
With cruel edge. A vague, dark horror rolls
Thine eyes, like hunted doe's, and thy touch leaves
Hot impress on my sense. My Hylia,
Is married love thus fearful, feverous, still?
Then curse I Hymen, and would have my wife
Maiden once more, that I might woo again.
Hylia.
Astynous, dear husband!
Astynous.
Ah, that's well.
Speak thus deliciously again. Thy words,
Though few, are each a red-ripe, perfect fruit
Of speech. A smile! but a mere ghost of such
As live where now I kiss! Is it so strange,
So fearful to be mine forever?
Hylia.
Nay,
Astynous; in sooth I'm very gay
And joyous.
38
With sad face; an oracle
That hides its import.
Hylia.
O—h! I'm falling!
Astynous.
Nay,
Requesting an embrace! Ye gods! her head
Hangs loose with backward chin! My Hylia,
Speak to Astynous! O my bride, my bride!
I cannot hold her longer, she must drop,
So weighty grows her delicate, slight form.
Mother, O mother! Nay, she cannot hear.
I'll bear my dreadful burden to her room.
O bridal-bed, that will not hold the bride
To-night! I shall go mad! It yet may be
She faints and will revive to fill these arms
Less heavily than now! Ha! I have crushed
The myrtle wreath that's tumbled from her hair!
I dread the omen! Nay, she'll soon be well.
[Exit, carrying her.
| Callirrhoë | |