University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

ADRAMELECH AND MAHALA.
Adr.
Long hours and dark have passed since we have met,
I sought thee not—yet did I not forget—
But vigils stern,—ordeals dread and deep,
Have mine been,—through long nights denied to sleep,
And strange observances and mystic cares,
Whose troublous strife, the watchful spirit wears—
'Twas since to these dark tasks I did incline,
I shunned that more than heavenly brow of thine:
I would not have thee share the grief—the gloom,
But snatch with me life's brightness and its bloom!—

Mah.
Thou didst and dost me wrong!—for me those hours
Flowed heavily, in my forsaken bowers!—
How heavily I may not strive to tell—
All of love's truth is the undescribable—
Still sorrowing o'er thine absence, time for me
Seemed yawning to a blank eternity!
And dars't thou say—thou dost not think—my heart
Could e'er know rest, or peace from thine apart?—
Think'st thou my soul a single pang to spare,
By not permitting it thy pains to share.
Ah! no! with sympathy of sufferance still,
'Twould answering feel—nay! aggravate each ill!—
Thou darest not dream that I would shrink from aught
That thou endurest—shame be on the thought!
I will not abdicate love's holiest right—
To share as well the sorrow as delight;
Nor be thus dispossessed of all I prize
On earth the most, the power to soothe thy sighs,
To charm thy cares to stillness, or divide—
In joy or misery, still with thee allied!

Adr.
Mine own beloved! and wilt thou share with me,
I know not what of dread and agony?—
Wilt thou not shrink when perils press between?
Wilt take thy leave of earth's familiar scene?
Affront ten thousand dangers thickening round,
And dwell with threatening glooms mysterious bound?
Wilt thou, mine own beloved, dare these and more?
For awful destinies must be in store
For me—Ah! pardon—sweet!—for us—I feel!—
More than these lips—than language can reveal.
Wilt thou indeed?—wilt share my rise or fall—
Wilt share my perils—my probations?

Mah.
All!

Adr.
Wilt thou forget all known and natural ties,
And turn from earth and heaven thy 'wildered eyes?
Wilt bow with me to some tremendous thrall,
And cope with things thought dare not grasp—

Mah.
All! All!

Adr.
Nay—hear me!—mark, and weigh, and ponder well,
Whilst I the truth, in all its terrors, tell!—
Wilt thou with me dread penalties incur—
Brave fierce contention's agonizing stir—
Wilt thou indeed partake my deadliest doom—
And plunge with me in its abyss of gloom?—

Mah.
Would I could more than suffer it, and share it!
Would that for thee ev'n I alone might bear it!
Oh! 'twere worse pain, worse anguish to partake,
Than sole to suffer it for thy dear sake.
For thee would I all agonies affront—
All dangers brook—all stern disasters brunt.
For thee would face all the evils of creation—
For thee—not with thee—dare—annihilation!—
No!—not with thee—thou glory and thou pride
Of the earthly race with which thou walk'st allied!

Adr.
I do and must believe thee—and no more
Will brave alone what I have borne before.
Rise up into thy Rights!—for thou say'st well,
Love claims through all things with the loved to dwell!
Thou shalt ere long thine arduous task commence—
Receive my soul's unclouded confidence!—
The fullest trust that I can give—receive;
And as I grant thee credence—me believe.
Enter with me on this most solemn pact;
Be ours deep unity of aim and act—
Of plan—of purport—thought and trust and deed.
Yea!—'tis to be—'tis done—and 'tis decreed!—
Yet hold!—still pause one moment—yet a word—
Those tears speak volumes!—but I must be heard!—
Thou may'st not know and shouldst not know, mine own!—
(For of some thoughts and things thou still hast shown,
Even childhood's innocence!—and thou art pure
As morning's dews—so may'st thou long endure!)
How passions can reign strong in man's wild heart—
From holy gracious tenderness—apart!—
Alas! it is too much—and must I show
To thee these depths of wildness and of woe?
I must—down, down—stung heart!—peace, madd'ning brain!
Dark tale!—thou must be told!—this pause is vain!—
I must lay bare my blighted soul to thee,
Ere that our compact be completed—see!—
The strong man weakened—to the dust e'en bowed!—
The brave man daunted, and abased the proud—
The bold abashed—the reckless one dismayed—
As if in full career o'erta'en and stayed!—
Never till now—No!—never, till this hour
Before, or strength, or pride, or wealth, or power,
Trembled my soul to utter or avow
Aught unto any!—Hide thy glorious brow,
Too terrible in beauty, while I speak!
Oh! turn away that sun-envermeilled cheek!
I may not dare behold its blush of fire—
At that I must reveal—and still respire!
Now let me straight proceed upon my tale,
And unto thine unlooked-on eyes unveil
The haunting horrors of my soul!—Attend!—

Mah.
I do!—Pronounce!—while soul in soul we blend—
But fear not—dream not aught that thou canst say
Can scare one sweet throb of my love away—
One dreaming of my strong devotion—no!
Sin—madness—ruin—death—should ne'er do so!—
No! though black crimes have steeped and stained thy soul,
Love's sacred breath shall purify the whole!—
For where love smiles can sin be left behind!—
The seraph still must exorcise the fiend!
Thine—thine I am, through all things, thine alone;
Through crowned affection's mightiest charm—thine own.
Ah! would I might be more of thine—yet more—
For this distinct existence I abhor!—
Divideless souls, and yet a separate state—
Distracted elements—though blended fate—
I would but have thy life, thy pulse, thy will—
Think through thy thoughts—but breathe through thy breath still!
Would I were more than thine!—would I might be
Absorbed—annihilated into—thee!—

Adr.
Mine own Mahala!—yet I pray thee—cease!—
Not these sweet words can witch me back to peace!
The stern task lies before me!—I must strive
To lend my pangs a language—and yet live!—
I love thee!—thou know'st not—nor I how much.
Or in its fulness would I now avouch
This adoration's uttermost excess!—
This fond and fathomless devotedness—
My life!—I love thee—but thou'rt not the first—
[Mahala faints.
Distraction!—She is gone—and I—accursed!—
'Tis I have held the poison to her lips—
Brought on her head this last—worst—dread eclipse.
There lies she—reft from feeling and from breath,
All heaven, and earth, and nature now are death—
Softly!—had I forgot my wonderous spell—
A whisper and a signal—all is well!—
Mahala! come to my wrung soul once more;
Thus let its life be trebled—to adore!—
Speak!—cans't thou ne'er forgive me that I loved
Ere bright perfection lived and breathed and moved
Before me, in that form which grew my fate?—
True! some soft instinct should have bid me wait—
Some mystic sympathy—some strange, sweet tie—
Till thou before me beamed thus matchlessly!—
Yet pardon me—that wandering lone and far,
Ere my sun rose, I hailed a herald star!—
'Twas but a first soft lesson in love's art
Whose heavenly lore enlightens now my heart—
An introduction sweet—and faint insight—
To love's blest tome (that book of life and light.)
Thus pardon me!—and hear me now proceed
To speak those words, that make my heart-veins bleed—
Those words that haply yet may cost me all—
Which prompts us still to bless life's stubborn thrall!—
Oh! 'tis humiliation's triumph thus
To breathe to thee, in accents tremulous,
The hated history of my deeds of old—
That record which till now was ne'er unrolled!—
And pour confessions, in thine ear averse,
Of crimes—their condemnation—and their curse!
To bear this bruised heart's heavy chroniclings
Of dark and desperate, and of deadly things!
My crimes?—Aye! worse—my weaknesses!—for still
I stand the unfaultering champion of my will.
But hear and judge!—And oh! in mercy deign
To pardon all—yet pity not my pain.
Not pity!—no!—too much like love is this,
And that is still too much of maddening bliss—
The wretch who stands before thee—must not now,
While tasked a truth so fearful to avow,
Receive of sympathy's indulgence aught.
No! worse distraction darkens from that thought!—
Pronounce my pardon!—but with stifled breath
And stern, averted aspect—cold as death!—

Mah.
My heart pronounces it!—thou know'st of old,
If that to thee can be or stern or cold!

Adr.
(not heeding her.)
Oh! my lost Zophiël! thou, creation's flower,
But doomed to blush and bloom for one brief hour,
How should I paint thee?—Once Thou, more than dear!
Give moonbeams for my pencils, calm and clear.
Oh! no!—too cold!—and colours there are none
To show how thy young dewy day-spring shone—
I cannot paint thy likeness!—not unless
A soul like thine, all lucid loveliness,
Could be o'er-pictured with that portraiture,
Thou—but for me—despite me—still so pure—
Which beauty-breathing thoughts should blazon there—
Then 'twould mistaken be—too heavenly fair—
For something of etherial race and birth,
And lift the spirit that it stamped—from earth!—
Thus e'en thine Image could not bide below,
But, like thyself, from this dull planet go.
I cannot paint thy likeness!—thou didst seem
Too delicate for truth—too dear for dream!
Through that transparent tenderness and grace,—
That effluence of the eternal light—thy face—
'Twas love himself—there softly smiling shone—
Thy soul—and form—and face—and love were one!
He lighted all thy loveliness—that lit
His radiance more—and did his beams transmit!
Till earth was made, as 'twere, his sun serene,
His and thy presence so illumed her scene;
All the elements emparadising so,
That midway raised to heaven she seemed to glow.

Mah.
Thy spirit wandereth to the lost one's grave;
Collect thy thoughts—alas!—thou dost but rave!

Adr.
I thank thee, that hast brought me back to life!—
The dark soul-murder of its daily strife—
The wreck—the desolation and the blight—
This piercing painfulness of loveless light—
All—all this loathsomeness of misery—
Back to myself—to madness—and—

Mah.
To me!—
Ah! when to thee had it before seemed woe,
To quit even heaven—to find me still below?
Return unto my soul!—whate'er this grief—
Let the exercise of patience bring relief,
But most the deep devotion, yet untried,
That would be proud—for thee but to have died;
Yet that devotion scarce I dare intrude
On the dark sternness of thy solemn mood!—
Still—might she soothe who doubly feels thy pain—
Ah! but forgive me—speak of her again;
Call all thy sorrowing memories round thee now,
I will at least with hard-learned patience bow;
To thy stern mandate silently submit,
Nor breathe of pity—though I pine for it!
Endure to see thy much-loved bosom bleed,
Nor show that pity I myself most need!

Adr.
Oh!—she was beauteous!—and her smiles and tears
Were e'en like those of infancy's sweet years—
Sudden and soft—yet full of soul no less,
And worlds of melancholy tenderness;
For e'en her smiles were sorrow-touched, as though
Her prophet-heart anticipated woe!—
Her form was fragile as those phantasies
That flit before the poet's haunted eyes—
Not compassed round with glorious majesty—
To strike—to awe—and to command, like thee!
Not like to thine her mien—my promised bride!—
Whose regal port speak passion's might and pride!—
Whose aspect shows so awful though serene—
And stamps thee where thou stand'st—Creation's Queen!
No!—hers was meek and shrinking and subdued—
As though to pass unmarked—unsought—she sued—
Girt round with innocency's holiest charm,
And gentleness a whisper might alarm!
Shrouded in hushed submissiveness, that lent
New witchery to her drooping languishment
And, oh! the imploring eloquence of eyes,
Dewy and blue as spring's delicious skies;
But their beseeching glances prayed in vain,
These might not so avert the blight—the stain—
The wrath, the ruin by the furies fed,—
Destined to fall on that too helpless head—
And talked I not of innocency's charm?—
That too availed not to protect from harm—
The foulest, fellest e'er by fiends devised,
To snatch to fate the unwary soul surprised—
No! nought availed!—Mild Mercy smiled not near,
And Love was lost in wrath and hate and fear.

Mah.
Yet pause awhile—thy troublous tale seems fraught
With torments of excruciating thought!—

Adr.
Pause?—pause?—I checked not then my murtherous course,
But headlong rushed—then paused not in remorse—
Not for the pleading of soft pity stayed—
Nor for one hour the undying deed delayed—

Mah.
Speak thou once more of the unknown lost one's grace,
Her harmony of form and heaven of face!—
Oh! let me strive to learn her looks—and live,
So like the Dead, thou mayst thyself forgive,
And deem she still is clasped unto thy soul,
For thee to bless and succour and console.
(Aside.)
Fain would I thus beguile him to forget
That task, so trying, he attempts—self-set!

Adr.
Veiled in a cloud of blushes, still she came,
As doth the morning star, in light and flame.
Not that herself, in sooth, had aught to hide;
'Twas the base world those cheeks of beauty dyed
With the eloquence of rich suffusions so;
Mantled for us that mediatorial glow.
And how she loved me!—words were worse than weak,
That love's unfathomable depths to speak!
For her still seemed—while lingering here beneath—
Law on my lip—and being from my breath—
My shadow was the very sun to her;
But in my presence seem'd her pulse to stir—
But at mine accents, consciousness awoke,
Her soul was still suspended—till I spoke!—
Then grew my words her meaning!—and my will
The very destiny that ruled her still!—
The destiny she blest, although 'twas death—
And worse—she loved perdition from my breath;
And nobly I that tenderness repaid,
And generous was the accursed return I made;
A lofty answer and a worthy found,
That trembling lowliness of love profound!—
Affection's sweet sublimities how well
I shared and felt—nor faultered—though she fell!—
Heaven was to her that spot whereon I stood,
My evil was for her the only good!—

Mah.
Say on!—and tell me—teach me how I love;
For all thou say'st 'tis I have proved and prove;
And more!—since I have climbed the dizziest height
And pinnacle of pride, with dark delight,
To fling myself from thence at thy loved feet,
And find the abasement of my soul more sweet!
Lo!—I yet boast of pride—thus bowed to thee;
For I am proud of my humility!—
I glory in that lowliness of love,
With which so richly burthened I too move!
Shame on the soul which were not proud to fall,
And yield to love its powers and treasures—all.
Shame on thy loved one's shade—if she forgot
To triumph thus—if thus she gloried not!—
Give me no throne—my soul's own voice hath said—
Save in the dust thou tramplest with thy tread!
Give me no worlds—or earthly or divine,
Save 'twere to spurn them for one smile of thine;—
I, who once asked an angel's mounting wing,
Grow, at thy beck, a downcast drooping thing!
And am I proud! yea! gloriously I own—
But of this slavery unto thee alone!—
To bend, for thy dear sake, and by thy side,
Crowns all my heart's ambition and its pride!

Adr.
Dare not to speak 'gainst her one darkling word—
Who but too madly loved—too much adored;—
If she was silent—oh! her spirit spoke;
The avowal from her acts—not accents, broke—
She weighed not, watched not what those feelings were
That love to fill all earth's quick hearts might spare!
Still more than all—immeasurably more,
To unapproachable excess—adore!—
No skill of tongue was hers—no strife of thought;
Love was her element—all else was nought!
Love was her whole existence!—essence—end—
Nor sought she eloquence to truth to lend;
To me her feelings flowed—her thoughts to me,
Affection grew life's sweet necessity!
Back on themselves these thoughts were never turned,
To teach the mysteries they unconscious learned;
I knew the councils of her curtained breast,
The secrets of her shrouded soul—the best!—
She paused not—pondered not—from their first birth
Those young emotions like to doves—came forth—
To brood but in my bosom—there to bide—
Still termed in mine—rolled all her being's tide!
No labour was her love—her only skill—
Was breathless full submission of her will!
Entire devotedness—unbounded zeal—
Whose keen intenseness—scarce she knew to feel—
Nay! speak not—lest I own to thy pained ear—
Her silence,—than thine eloquence more dear!—

Mah.
Avow it!—I will yet play such a part
As even must fix thy long-divided heart—
And then—yet no!—till that proud part I play,
I lock my lips—'tis thou that shalt unsay!—
And spare thyself!—thou needst not more unfold:—
Unto my listening heart—the tale is told!—
Words vexed and broken, can full much express—
To sentient feeling's wakeful watchfulness!—
There needs but this,—when frowned that fated deed,
Betwixt thy soul and heaven?—break, Hope! thy reed!
I see that heaven, snatched farther from mine eyes,
I feel thy fault hurls both—from yon veiled skies,
Both bans—both banishes—for well thou know'st
Thy fate is mine—my soul goes where thou goest!
And must demand like ruin and like wreck,
And all thy doom—adored Adramelech!
And wherefore was that deed of darkness wrought?
Thus much disclose—then shut the seal on thought!

Adr.
Nay! ask not how, or where, or why, or when,
That deed was wrought which stamps me—worst of men!
Suffice—I bowed to fiend's infernal laws—
Devoting thus—the cherished to—the cause!—
Enquire not farther—let thus much suffice—
The sinless fell—the sinner's sacrifice!
Sinless in all things, save in loving one,
Who led, lured, lessoned her—to be undone.
Yet all unconsciously—unwitting all—
She tottered—trembled onwards to her fall!—
She faced for me the torture and the tomb—
The depths of undiscoverable doom!—
But dreamed not all that lay concealed behind,
The worse than woe to which she was consigned,
All the everlastingness of ruin brought—
On her, beyond the tracery of man's thought—
No common destiny—no foretold curse—
A doom from whence chill'd fancy shrinks averse!
And I have called her—but she never came!—
Through nights of sleepless woe have breathed that name,
Whose echo seems an earthquake's crash and peals,
As judgment thunders loud—till Reason reels!—
Seest thou the gory spot, this front that stains,
A brand of blood far deeper seared than Cain's!—
Hell's fires are burnt into my brain through this,
And my scorched heart the undying victim 'tis!—

Mah.
No more!—I charge thee speak no farther word—
My heart in truth hath too distinctly heard,
Like waters troubled by an angry sky,
Its depths reflect thine every agony!—
Lo!—now hear me and mine!—Erewhile didst thou
Speak of sworn compact;—ratify it now!—
Now be thy love no more by doubt chastised,
The Marriage of our Souls be solemnized!—
Would'st have my spirit with thine own unite?
So be it!—thus and here receive my plight!
My choice—my deep election, now are made—
Call thou my soul's roused energies to aid!
Thou askedst me to weigh—mark—choose—I do—
And most deliberately and deeply too!—
With thee in hope, and heart, and hand I join,
Thy paths, thy plans—thine aims and acts be mine!
But first—resolve me!—saidst thou thou hadst prayed,
And vainly to thy Zöphiel's silent shade?—
Doth she resist thy call—reject thy claim?
And hast thou cried to her—who never came?

Adr.
(looking upwards,)
I have implored, besought thee—day and night—
Adjured with agonizing passion's might—
I have—my Zöphiel—murdered—martyred—thou!—
Who teachest him who never bent—to bow—
And I, the unshrinking one—the haughty-souled—
Blind in the dust have gasping, grovelling rolled,—
And groaned forth supplications that might wring
The past from its oblivion's withering—
Vainly—all vainly!—thou hast answered not—
Unheeded the despair—the love forgot,—
And I have moaned in misery's abject mood,
My shuddering invocations—mocked—withstood,—
Withstood and mocked for ever!—all in vain!—
A rain of blood comes sapping heart and brain;
And a live darkness folds me as a snake—
In venomed grasp—till my swoln pulses ache;
And I have said! come forth!—from death's dread gloom,
What though to crush,—condemn—consume me—come!
Not to enlighten these so phrenzied eyes,
To blast—annihilate—appear!—arise!—

Mah.
Yet tell me, oh, beloved!—art not thou lord
Of mightiest spells?—but speak the lightning word—
Pronounce the fearful—

Adr.
Hush!—no more! no more!
I sought her, and besought her o'er and o'er;
Implored—urged—prayed—adjured—yet might not dare
To whisper that unto the listening air—
All other means and methods tried I still—
But shrunk from that—and yet I must fulfil;
She stands the sworn selected oracle—
And her dark presence I must yet compell.—

Mah.
But hear me farther!—I step in to spare!—
Thou shalt not brave that suffering!—hear!—I swear;
I swear by all yon burning stars that roll—
With searching light—that looks into the soul;—
By death and life—and that most awful spell,
Which seems the wreck of all things to foretell;
By all that love hath taught me—his distress,
His conquering powers—his shuddering happiness;
By the uustaunched blood that weighs upon thy head,—
If this be needful—mine, ev'n mine to shed!—
Aye!—by thy victim's lost, lost soul I swear,
To crown myself the next!—but say—“Prepare!”—
And with dread joy will I embrace my fate,
The torment and the triumph consummate!
One word from thee should snatch my Spirit back,
From the unseen bourne—along the untrodden track!
But if such should not be thy law, thy will—
Then will I live—thy slave and minion still—
Think—breathe—act—hope—feel—do and deem and dare—
But as thou givest me licence!—thus I swear!—

Adr.
Now mak'st thou me to mourn my blasted state,
Since I must bless thee not!—thou bright and great!—
Live!—and be more than ever loved!—I feel—
That thou art made for me, through woe and weal;
Fear—fate—and chance—and change—I feel with pride,
Thou art my being's mate!—my spirit's bride!—
Live! if earth yet indeed can hold—detain—
A soul of such vast scope—so wide a reign—
Ha!—who approacheth—with calm aspect bright—
An angel's form, and garmented in light.—

Enter Adah.
Adah.
Mahala! I rejoice we thus have met!
My childhood's sweet companion—cherished yet—
And through affection's golden sympathies—
Homed in my heart—though rent be the olden ties:
Though absence long hath frowned our souls between,
And we are wanderers from each well-known scene—
Hail!—welcome me, Mahala!—still thou art
The fair and gracious sister of my heart.—

Mah.
I welcome thee!—my childhood's gentlest friend,
And clasp in love the hand thou dost extend;
Returning lovingly thy greetings all—
How doth thy presence that flown past recall!—

Adah.
Aye! sweet Mahala!—when together we
Linked hand and hand, light bounded merrily,
To catch the butterfly, or chase the bird,
Like them, half-hovering in the air unheard!—
So free those footsteps—care had ne'er delayed,
So light these hearts, no grief had earthwards weighed;
Yet holier recollections softening come,
And snatch me back to that beloved home.
Rememberest thou how solemnly we felt—
When whispering prayers, together down we knelt—
Together sent our sister-souls to heaven,
And prayed to be protected—bless'd—forgiven.
Long have these memories haunted me, and late
With yearnings gracious and affectionate—
Once more with thee would I Heaven's grace implore,
Join in thanksgivings, and in prayers once more!—

Mah.
Enough!—I cannot commune with thee now—
Farewell!—I must depart—

Adah.
But hear me thou!—
Most dear Mahala!—Even return with me
Unto my father's tents—there welcomed be!—
For he will joy with me to view that face,
So beauteous now with youth's consummate grace;—
Return with me, awhile midst us to dwell,
And share my tasks and duties—is it well?—

Mah.
'Tis well!—sweet sister of my youth—and yet
My tasks—my duties, must I not forget!
Know, since we shared one prayer, one play, one sleep,
Wild changes have come o'er me, dark and deep:
Youth's toys and gewgaws have I left behind,
And heap'd with knowledge high my waken'd mind—
My thoughts are turned to strange and lofty things—
Mine are proud dreams, and bright imaginings—
Keen burning aspirations—yearnings strong,
That like winged gusts drive all my soul along
The wonders of creation, scarce revealed,
And charming more the more they are concealed,
The mysteries that around us throng and teem,
These things, and more inspire my mounting dream.
I cannot come with thee!—for I must watch
Through noon and evening and the night, to catch
Dim hints and faint illuminings, and store
My mind with knowledge deep, not grasped before,
When searching stars are trembling o'er my head,
I question these of glorious truths and dread,
And awful visions are vouchafed to me
That radiate far into the eternity—
And startling scenes rise up before my sight,
That deep'ning spread till lost in more than light,
And solemn whispers warn me from afar,
Profound and piercing and oracular!—
I cannot come with thee!—

Adah.
Ah!—yet unsay!—
Yet come and pass with me one long, bright day
Thou revellest in the dreams of worlds unseen,
Perchance unborn!—that are, or that have been
A glorious spectacle is Nature still—
Right well her wondrous part doth she fulfil!—
A glorious spectacle's the universe—
In every phase and function!—change and course,
And doubtless with majestic triumphs fraught,
Glow the aspirations of ambitious thought!—
But man—weak man should not alone aspire.
Fixed should he be on high ere he soar higher!—
A nobler task's appointed unto him,
A loftier aim be his!—his thoughts may swim
Midst worlds unnumbered, in luxurious strife,
With glorying phantasies sublimely rife—
With triumph—mystery and victorious power;
Yet nobler is the self-restraining hour!—
The hour of contrite tears and humble cares,
The exalting hour of penitence and prayers!—
Oh!—let him make his soul, schooled long and well,
In Heaven's own eye a glorious Spectacle!—
More precious thousand-fold than worlds that move
In measured harmony—not conscious love!
This—this, were worthy of creation's heir—
This proves his proudest task—his loftiest care.
Not all life's burning hopes and dreams august
Can match the humility that clasps the dust!
Let me but win thee to her ways again,
Thou'lt hug her burthens—and thou'lt kiss her chain.

Mah.
Not so!—thou little know'st me!—Hence!—away!
A prisoned storm seems struggling in this clay!
My soul was born to soar and to aspire—
Its thoughts are tempests—and its feelings fire!—
All joins to wake, to stir—touch—thrill—create—
Rouse—raise that burning soul above its fate!—
Humility!—I may not know the word!—
My swelling bosom owns no answering chord—
Joy—joy—to feel the mysteries of the mind
With all the mysteries hid from man—combined—
The incomprehensibilities of Thought
Into one luxury of aspiring wrought!
While strong emotions—fervid longings blend
To one rich exultation without end!—

Adah.
Yet hear me!—bear with me!—dost mind thee not
Still of the o'ershadowing tree—our favourite spot?—
The accustomed haunt of our bright happiness,
Where kneeled we nightly, praying Heaven to bless—
Rose not thy childish thoughts e'en then on high?—
Sprang not thine infant mind to the op'ning sky?—
Hath not Religion too her rapt delights?—
Hath charmed Devotion no victorious flights?—
Hadst thou continued in their paths to move,
New triumphs had accorded been to love!—
New inspirations—in progressive power
Had heightened all the joys of prayer's calm hour!
Is Heaven indeed not high enough for thee?—
Not scope sufficient is the Eternity?—
Is He not worthy of thy praise who made
Those wonders, thou so gladly hast surveyed?—
Doth His dread throne all veiled in blinding light—
Not satisfy thy quest?—reward thy flight?—
Once more with me prayer's boundless blessings prove,
And own no wonder like the Heavenly Love!

Adr.
Something too much of pious preaching this—
Its end shall be beginning of our bliss!
Peace!—woman!—peace!—when thy advice we ask,
Renew the tame, trite theme—repeat the task.

Adah.
I did not thee advise—not counsel thee,
Thou graceless man of gloomy mystery!—
Irreverend scorner!—that in sullen mood—
In savage silence near, hast frowning stood—
Methinks I know thee!—art not thou the man
Proscribed, beneath some stern, tremendous ban—
Art thou not he that from the righteous way
Hast led of late my much-changed sire astray?
Yes! thou art the man! and Heaven, in mercy, spare
My gray-haired father from thy murtherous snare!—
Him hast thou made—I speak with shudd'ring sigh—
Of thy black deeds the associate and the ally!—
Him hast thou made thy comrade in thy cause—
Some foul rebellion 'gainst the eternal laws!—
Thy comrade—aye!—yet, dark apostate!—hear!
He is not—never can be made—thy peer!
First in the rank of crime shalt thou be class'd—
Ev'n by the infernal spirits unsurpassed!

Adr.
In pity to thyself, but pause awhile!
I answer with compassionating smile!
My peer!—no!—no!—thou need'st not nurse that dread.
Well say'st thou, he hath followed where I led!—
He dreams we have one scheme—one strife—one sphere—
One aim—one object—is the worm my peer?—
(Aside.)
He knows not mine, dull dotard!—vain and blind;
But his is fathomed by my searching mind!
Apostate?—I fling back that charge to thee—
Thyself—accuse of cold apostacy—
Weak woman!—to thy glorious race a stain!—
Flows in such veins the haughty blood of Cain?—
Hence! with thy fulsome preaching and foul prate—
Art thou elected portress of heaven's gate?—
Say, are heaven's keys committed to thy hands?—
Hopest thou to draw us with such slippery bands?—

Aadh.
To thee I speak no more!—Mahala!—come!—
Haste—haste—and share with me one hope—one home—
Seize, crown the occasion now and bless the hour!—
Leave this unrighteous man of evil power—
This ruined being lost—accursed—abhorred—
This man of impious deed and impious word.
Leave him!—ere wilder things he speak and worse—
Consign him to his conscience—and his curse!
Contamination in his presence dwells—
Sin—ruin—death—are in his godless spells!—

Mah.
Leave?—leave?—I love even as thou lovest Him,
Whose chariot is the fiery cherubim!
Leave him?—I love him as thou lov'st the Lord!
And his I am in thought and deed and word,
My deepest soul is bound to his for ever—
Thus hurl I back thine answer—never—never!

Adah.
Worse woe!—and wilt thou lose for him thine all,
And face the precipice—provoke the fall,
And yield thine immortality of bliss
For such a lost blaspheming wretch as this?

Mah.
Discourse not me of immortality!—
If love reign not, what can it be—to be!
I tell ye, I had rather live One Hour,—
One moment even of passion in its power,
One moment of the burning, beating heart,
When every pulse hath learned its own sweet part,
Than linger through the eternity above,
If that eternity be not of love!—
That long, dark, immortality of soul,
If love be not the deep life of the whole!—
Aye!—I would gladly—gloryingly compress
All my soul's faculties of happiness—
Its rushing strengths—its heaven-enkindled fires—
Its battling zeal, that all awakes—inspires—
Its every stormy energy and power!—
Wills—dreams and thoughts into that feeling hour,
Rather—yea! rather would do thus by far
Than count vain ages in some colder star!—
Love hath its own eternity!—It is
Its own rich immortality of bliss!—
And through its power—through its resistless laws—
All joy from Past and Future conquering draws.—
I will not leave him! he is as my soul,
One thought of him doth all my thoughts controul.
I cannot leave him—I am his—all his!—
In life or death, in misery or in bliss!—
Thou tell'st me still of mine immortal Soul,
Which shall not die while suns and planets roll;
Mine everlasting Life, which cannot fail,
Though stars and suns and systems wane and pale.
I tell thee of my deep, immortal Love—
Which lives while life is found beneath—above—
I cannot leave him!—No!—we must not part!—
My Soul hath spoken!—thou hast heard my Heart!

Adah.
Alas! thy daring and distempered thought
Another lesson may ere long be taught!
If not for thine own sake, thou wilt forswear
The fatal paths of doubt and of despair—
For his consent—for his sole sake comply—
Thy prayers might yet appease the offended sky!
Thy zealous deeds of good, perchance, might yet
Win heaven for him—on whom thy love is set—
How couldst thou bear—to aid all powerless—bear
To see the eternal throes of his despair?
Thine own forgotten in his darker fate—
Bethink thee well!—pause—pause ere 'tis too late!
Couldst bear his pangs—which thou mightst not assuage?
Since thou should'st see his sufferings, age by age!—

Mah.
Oh! thou Omnipotent—dread mystery!
From these fierce threats I do appeal to Thee!
Crush not thine own creation in my soul!—
Love—love, thine offspring, lives throughout the whole!
Hear thine own voice that from its depths doth rise—
The voice of love, on earth as in the skies—
Perfect—immortal!—not for me I pray—
Kill all my soul!—spare his! in thy great sway!—
Heaven!—Heaven!—crush down my writhing soul—or give
An infinite of life for it to live—
And all one torture!—I care not—so he
Be blessed and spared for all felicity!

[She faints.
Adr.
Begone! thou hateful babbler!—dost come here
To cloud that noble soul with gloom and fear?—
Back to thy tents!—or I will conjure round
Foul fiends to bear thee to their lairs profound!

Adah.
I do not fear thee! sorcerer!—but I go—
Since vain my mission now, I fear—I know—
Yet will I seek Mahala once again,
And strive with her proud heart—ev'n though in vain!—

[Exit Adah.
Mahala,
(recovering.)
I tremble!—who will succour—who shall save?—
Heard'st thou that threat'ning angel of the grave?—
No! 'twas my gentle Adah—mild and meek!
Couldst thou such words of curdling horror speak?—
Ah! did I act it well? my soul!—reply!—
When dared I proudly those high truths defy!
While not one word she spoke but thrilled me—more—
Woke thousand echoes in my bosom's core!
Support me hence!—Beloved One!—stern and rude
To me seems now the oppressive solitude—
Lo! let us seek thy brethren—all my heart
Is sick to death—quick!—let us hence depart!

[Exeunt.