 | The Serpent Play |  |
52
Scene III.
—The Hall of Voragine.Voragine, Cœlis.
CŒLIS.
My kinsman, Voragine! A cheerful sight,
You look so firm within your mail,
Few such a living stronghold would assail.
VORAGINE.
It is but health braced by sword-exercise,
The tonic of the soul! In honest fight
The secret of a man's endurance lies.
CŒLIS.
The schooling of the body to the mind.
Ill-trained for such high cult is he
Who what he is not seeks to be:
Oft in the dusk of thought we find
No path to final victory.
VORAGINE.
What need we more than fame and wealth
In life's short play, and both are yours.
Though, says report, you take by stealth
What open war to me secures.
53
How, then, by stealth; though said in jest,
It is most covertly expressed.
VORAGINE.
'Tis told no planet passes on parade
But that you rob it of an omen.
So is heaven-brigandage your trade,
As mine to take the lives of foemen.
As you coax nature to reveal
The mighty purpose of her next decreeing,
More fairly from a damsel's heart I steal
The inmost secret of her being.
CŒLIS.
Say it is so: you ever must pourtray
Your humour in a soldier's way.
VORAGINE.
Your fairy sister, Vivia, where is she?
Still in the convent at her training?
Ah! would she waft her love to me,
And spare me all this heart-complaining!
Now, Cœlis, draw the shadowy moon
Into some shallow pool, and trace
The magic circles: bid her solve
How many months she must revolve
Ere Vivia shall assume her bridal place!
But say we must be wedded soon.
54
She yet is young: but you have long been plighted;
Bid her then solve the riddle that has riven
So many far asunder when united:
So many into madness driven.
VORAGINE.
It may be so when love is little wise,
And takes the gulph ere it can scale the steep:
Before us shall no obstacle arise,
But that the dancing of our eyes
May in a moment over-leap.
What charm is there like soldier's prattle;—
The gallant rush, the flash of battle;—
No maiden heart can this withstand!
To tales of danger while she listens,
The jewel at her eyelash glistens:
The merry moment is at hand!
Ah! laugh we must not, save at greeting—
To show our joy at such a meeting!
Who has seen battles won and lost
Is slow of victory to boast,
And for the conquest of a maid,
The more he loves the more is he afraid.
CŒLIS.
Love is the hardest of all creeds,
All are its martyrs, wheresoe'er it leads.
55
Vivia is love; no better creed I choose:
But till she comes we must the hours amuse.
Shall we then fence to while away the time?
My thoughts lie near, yours ever are sublime.
I must invent some game to waste the days,
Or they will never flit: I cannot watch,
With you, mild nature's slow, ecstatic ways,
And at set times her inspirations snatch.
Let us begone and with wild pleasure
Race, while the world goes round in stately leisure.
CŒLIS.
Life will go on,—the eagle's speed
It doth not for its squandering need;
But Vivia comes to-day, along the road
Her barb now bears its lightsome load.
VORAGINE.
Such news would cheer an army! Let us spend
The morrow with you; love alone
Can for the misery of those wars atone:
Be it the assurance of their happy end.
CŒLIS.
And from my brother Pandolph is a letter:
A longer one had pleased me better.
‘Cœlis,’ he says, ‘take choice among the fair,
56
Wedded at last I long to show
My charming princess at the old chateau.
So think of us as on our homeward way;
Perhaps not many hours shall we delay.
Time after time has this been my intent,
But our old oracle not yet is spent;
For, I had a presentiment.’
VORAGINE.
The best of news.
CŒLIS.
Presentiments we heed,
Though little argument have they to plead.
Perchance my brother feels afar
The signs that move us not when they are near,
And so may he his safety find in fear:
But this must not our pleasure mar,
When all the rest, perhaps Vivia, now are here.
VORAGINE.
Ere the day passes Vivia must I see;
And on the morrow,—
CŒLIS.
Then the feast shall be.
| The Serpent Play | |