Percy Bysshe Shelley - Delphi Poets Series

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Percy Bysshe Shelley - Delphi Poets Series Page 92

by Percy Bysshe Shelley


  Unfathomed by our intellectual beam.

  They are the work of Providence, and more 150

  The battle’s loss may profit those who lose,

  Than victory advantage those who win.

  CYPRIAN:

  That I admit; and yet that God should not

  (Falsehood is incompatible with deity)

  Assure the victory; it would be enough 155

  To have permitted the defeat. If God

  Be all sight, — God, who had beheld the truth,

  Would not have given assurance of an end

  Never to be accomplished: thus, although

  The Deity may according to his attributes 160

  Be well distinguished into persons, yet

  Even in the minutest circumstance

  His essence must be one.

  DAEMON:

  To attain the end

  The affections of the actors in the scene

  Must have been thus influenced by his voice. 165

  CYPRIAN:

  But for a purpose thus subordinate

  He might have employed Genii, good or evil, —

  A sort of spirits called so by the learned,

  Who roam about inspiring good or evil,

  And from whose influence and existence we 170

  May well infer our immortality.

  Thus God might easily, without descent

  To a gross falsehood in his proper person,

  Have moved the affections by this mediation

  To the just point.

  DAEMON:

  These trifling contradictions 175

  Do not suffice to impugn the unity

  Of the high Gods; in things of great importance

  They still appear unanimous; consider

  That glorious fabric, man, — his workmanship

  Is stamped with one conception.

  CYPRIAN:

  Who made man 180

  Must have, methinks, the advantage of the others.

  If they are equal, might they not have risen

  In opposition to the work, and being

  All hands, according to our author here,

  Have still destroyed even as the other made? 185

  If equal in their power, unequal only

  In opportunity, which of the two

  Will remain conqueror?

  DAEMON:

  On impossible

  And false hypothesis there can be built

  No argument. Say, what do you infer 190

  From this?

  CYPRIAN:

  That there must be a mighty God

  Of supreme goodness and of highest grace,

  All sight, all hands, all truth, infallible,

  Without an equal and without a rival,

  The cause of all things and the effect of nothing, 195

  One power, one will, one substance, and one essence.

  And, in whatever persons, one or two,

  His attributes may be distinguished, one

  Sovereign power, one solitary essence,

  One cause of all cause.

  (THEY RISE.)

  DAEMON:

  How can I impugn 200

  So clear a consequence?

  CYPRIAN:

  Do you regret

  My victory?

  DAEMON:

  Who but regrets a check

  In rivalry of wit? I could reply

  And urge new difficulties, but will now

  Depart, for I hear steps of men approaching, 205

  And it is time that I should now pursue

  My journey to the city.

  CYPRIAN:

  Go in peace!

  DAEMON:

  Remain in peace! — Since thus it profits him

  To study, I will wrap his senses up

  In sweet oblivion of all thought but of 210

  A piece of excellent beauty; and, as I

  Have power given me to wage enmity

  Against Justina’s soul, I will extract

  From one effect two vengeances.

  (ASIDE AND EXIT.)

  CYPRIAN:

  I never

  Met a more learned person. Let me now 215

  Revolve this doubt again with careful mind.

  (HE READS.)

  (FLORO AND LELIO ENTER.)

  LELIO:

  Here stop. These toppling rocks and tangled boughs,

  Impenetrable by the noonday beam,

  Shall be sole witnesses of what we —

  FLORO:

  Draw!

  If there were words, here is the place for deeds. 220

  LELIO:

  Thou needest not instruct me; well I know

  That in the field, the silent tongue of steel

  Speaks thus, —

  (THEY FIGHT.)

  CYPRIAN:

  Ha! what is this? Lelio, — Floro,

  Be it enough that Cyprian stands between you,

  Although unarmed.

  LELIO:

  Whence comest thou, to stand 225

  Between me and my vengeance?

  FLORO:

  From what rocks

  And desert cells?

  (ENTER MOSCON AND CLARIN.)

  MOSCON:

  Run! run! for where we left

  My master. I now hear the clash of swords.

  CLARIN:

  I never run to approach things of this sort

  But only to avoid them. Sir! Cyprian! sir! 230

  CYPRIAN:

  Be silent, fellows! What! two friends who are

  In blood and fame the eyes and hope of Antioch,

  One of the noble race of the Colalti,

  The other son o’ the Governor, adventure

  And cast away, on some slight cause no doubt, 235

  Two lives, the honour of their country?

  LELIO:

  Cyprian!

  Although my high respect towards your person

  Holds now my sword suspended, thou canst not

  Restore it to the slumber of the scabbard:

  Thou knowest more of science than the duel; 240

  For when two men of honour take the field,

  No counsel nor respect can make them friends

  But one must die in the dispute.

  FLORO:

  I pray

  That you depart hence with your people, and

  Leave us to finish what we have begun 245

  Without advantage. —

  CYPRIAN:

  Though you may imagine

  That I know little of the laws of duel,

  Which vanity and valour instituted,

  You are in error. By my birth I am

  Held no less than yourselves to know the limits 250

  Of honour and of infamy, nor has study

  Quenched the free spirit which first ordered them;

  And thus to me, as one well experienced

  In the false quicksands of the sea of honour,

  You may refer the merits of the case; 255

  And if I should perceive in your relation

  That either has the right to satisfaction

  From the other, I give you my word of honour

  To leave you.

  LELIO:

  Under this condition then

  I will relate the cause, and you will cede 260

  And must confess the impossibility

  Of compromise; for the same lady is

  Beloved by Floro and myself.

  FLORO:

  It seems

  Much to me that the light of day should look

  Upon that idol of my heart — but he — 265

  Leave us to fight, according to thy word.

  CYPRIAN:

  Permit one question further: is the lady

  Impossible to hope or not?

  LELIO:

  She is

  So excellent, that if the light of day

  Should excite Floro’s jealousy, it were 270

  Without just cause, for even the light of day
>
  Trembles to gaze on her.

  CYPRIAN:

  Would you for your

  Part, marry her?

  FLORO:

  Such is my confidence.

  CYPRIAN:

  And you?

  LELIO:

  Oh! would that I could lift my hope

  So high, for though she is extremely poor, 275

  Her virtue is her dowry.

  CYPRIAN:

  And if you both

  Would marry her, is it not weak and vain,

  Culpable and unworthy, thus beforehand

  To slur her honour? What would the world say

  If one should slay the other, and if she 280

  Should afterwards espouse the murderer?

  (THE RIVALS AGREE TO REFER THEIR QUARREL TO CYPRIAN; WHO IN CONSEQUENCE VISITS JUSTINA, AND BECOMES ENAMOURED OF HER; SHE DISDAINS HIM, AND HE RETIRES TO A SOLITARY SEA-SHORE.)

  SCENE 2.

  CYPRIAN:

  O memory! permit it not

  That the tyrant of my thought

  Be another soul that still

  Holds dominion o’er the will,

  That would refuse, but can no more, 5

  To bend, to tremble, and adore.

  Vain idolatry! — I saw,

  And gazing, became blind with error;

  Weak ambition, which the awe

  Of her presence bound to terror! 10

  So beautiful she was — and I,

  Between my love and jealousy,

  Am so convulsed with hope and fear,

  Unworthy as it may appear; —

  So bitter is the life I live, 15

  That, hear me, Hell! I now would give

  To thy most detested spirit

  My soul, for ever to inherit,

  To suffer punishment and pine,

  So this woman may be mine. 20

  Hear’st thou, Hell! dost thou reject it?

  My soul is offered!

  DAEMON (UNSEEN):

  I accept it.

  (TEMPEST, WITH THUNDER AND LIGHTNING.)

  CYPRIAN:

  What is this? ye heavens for ever pure,

  At once intensely radiant and obscure!

  Athwart the aethereal halls 25

  The lightning’s arrow and the thunder-balls

  The day affright,

  As from the horizon round,

  Burst with earthquake sound,

  In mighty torrents the electric fountains; — 30

  Clouds quench the sun, and thunder-smoke

  Strangles the air, and fire eclipses Heaven.

  Philosophy, thou canst not even

  Compel their causes underneath thy yoke:

  From yonder clouds even to the waves below 35

  The fragments of a single ruin choke

  Imagination’s flight;

  For, on flakes of surge, like feathers light,

  The ashes of the desolation, cast

  Upon the gloomy blast, 40

  Tell of the footsteps of the storm;

  And nearer, see, the melancholy form

  Of a great ship, the outcast of the sea,

  Drives miserably!

  And it must fly the pity of the port, 45

  Or perish, and its last and sole resort

  Is its own raging enemy.

  The terror of the thrilling cry

  Was a fatal prophecy

  Of coming death, who hovers now 50

  Upon that shattered prow,

  That they who die not may be dying still.

  And not alone the insane elements

  Are populous with wild portents,

  But that sad ship is as a miracle 55

  Of sudden ruin, for it drives so fast

  It seems as if it had arrayed its form

  With the headlong storm.

  It strikes — I almost feel the shock, —

  It stumbles on a jagged rock, — 60

  Sparkles of blood on the white foam are cast.

  (A TEMPEST.)

  ALL EXCLAIM (WITHIN):

  We are all lost!

  DAEMON (WITHIN):

  Now from this plank will I

  Pass to the land and thus fulfil my scheme.

  CYPRIAN:

  As in contempt of the elemental rage

  A man comes forth in safety, while the ship’s 65

  Great form is in a watery eclipse

  Obliterated from the Oceans page,

  And round its wreck the huge sea-monsters sit,

  A horrid conclave, and the whistling wave

  Is heaped over its carcase, like a grave. 70

  (THE DAEMON ENTERS, AS ESCAPED FROM THE SEA.)

  DAEMON (ASIDE):

  It was essential to my purposes

  To wake a tumult on the sapphire ocean,

  That in this unknown form I might at length

  Wipe out the blot of the discomfiture

  Sustained upon the mountain, and assail 75

  With a new war the soul of Cyprian,

  Forging the instruments of his destruction

  Even from his love and from his wisdom. — O

  Beloved earth, dear mother, in thy bosom

  I seek a refuge from the monster who 80

  Precipitates itself upon me.

  CYPRIAN:

  Friend,

  Collect thyself; and be the memory

  Of thy late suffering, and thy greatest sorrow

  But as a shadow of the past, — for nothing

  Beneath the circle of the moon, but flows 85

  And changes, and can never know repose.

  DAEMON:

  And who art thou, before whose feet my fate

  Has prostrated me?

  CYPRIAN:

  One who, moved with pity,

  Would soothe its stings.

  DAEMON:

  Oh, that can never be!

  No solace can my lasting sorrows find. 90

  CYPRIAN:

  Wherefore?

  DAEMON:

  Because my happiness is lost.

  Yet I lament what has long ceased to be

  The object of desire or memory,

  And my life is not life.

  CYPRIAN:

  Now, since the fury

  Of this earthquaking hurricane is still, 95

  And the crystalline Heaven has reassumed

  Its windless calm so quickly, that it seems

  As if its heavy wrath had been awakened

  Only to overwhelm that vessel, — speak,

  Who art thou, and whence comest thou?

  DAEMON:

  Far more 100

  My coming hither cost, than thou hast seen

  Or I can tell. Among my misadventures

  This shipwreck is the least. Wilt thou hear?

  CYPRIAN:

  Speak.

  DAEMON:

  Since thou desirest, I will then unveil

  Myself to thee; — for in myself I am 105

  A world of happiness and misery;

  This I have lost, and that I must lament

  Forever. In my attributes I stood

  So high and so heroically great,

  In lineage so supreme, and with a genius 110

  Which penetrated with a glance the world

  Beneath my feet, that, won by my high merit,

  A king — whom I may call the King of kings,

  Because all others tremble in their pride

  Before the terrors of His countenance, 115

  In His high palace roofed with brightest gems

  Of living light — call them the stars of Heaven —

  Named me His counsellor. But the high praise

  Stung me with pride and envy, and I rose

  In mighty competition, to ascend 120

  His seat and place my foot triumphantly

  Upon His subject thrones. Chastised, I know

  The depth to which ambition falls; too mad

  Was the attempt, and yet more mad were now

  Repentance of th
e irrevocable deed: — 125

  Therefore I chose this ruin, with the glory

  Of not to be subdued, before the shame

  Of reconciling me with Him who reigns

  By coward cession. — Nor was I alone,

  Nor am I now, nor shall I be alone; 130

  And there was hope, and there may still be hope,

  For many suffrages among His vassals

  Hailed me their lord and king, and many still

  Are mine, and many more, perchance shall be.

  Thus vanquished, though in fact victorious, 135

  I left His seat of empire, from mine eye

  Shooting forth poisonous lightning, while my words

  With inauspicious thunderings shook Heaven,

  Proclaiming vengeance, public as my wrong,

  And imprecating on His prostrate slaves 140

  Rapine, and death, and outrage. Then I sailed

  Over the mighty fabric of the world, —

  A pirate ambushed in its pathless sands,

  A lynx crouched watchfully among its caves

  And craggy shores; and I have wandered over 145

  The expanse of these wide wildernesses

  In this great ship, whose bulk is now dissolved

  In the light breathings of the invisible wind,

  And which the sea has made a dustless ruin,

  Seeking ever a mountain, through whose forests 150

  I seek a man, whom I must now compel

  To keep his word with me. I came arrayed

  In tempest, and although my power could well

  Bridle the forest winds in their career,

  For other causes I forbore to soothe 155

  Their fury to Favonian gentleness;

  I could and would not;

  (ASIDE.)

  (thus I wake in him

  A love of magic art). Let not this tempest,

  Nor the succeeding calm excite thy wonder;

  For by my art the sun would turn as pale 160

  As his weak sister with unwonted fear;

  And in my wisdom are the orbs of Heaven

  Written as in a record; I have pierced

  The flaming circles of their wondrous spheres

  And know them as thou knowest every corner 165

  Of this dim spot. Let it not seem to thee

  That I boast vainly; wouldst thou that I work

  A charm over this waste and savage wood,

  This Babylon of crags and aged trees,

  Filling its leafy coverts with a horror 170

  Thrilling and strange? I am the friendless guest

  Of these wild oaks and pines — and as from thee

  I have received the hospitality

  Of this rude place, I offer thee the fruit

  Of years of toil in recompense; whate’er 175

  Thy wildest dream presented to thy thought

  As object of desire, that shall be thine.

  …

  And thenceforth shall so firm an amity

  ‘Twixt thee and me be, that neither Fortune,

  The monstrous phantom which pursues success, 180

  That careful miser, that free prodigal,

  Who ever alternates, with changeful hand,

  Evil and good, reproach and fame; nor Time,

 

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