POLONIA. Oh! turn not back, but follow and confide

LUIS [within]. I've conquered! sweet Polonia's shade, Since sight of thee has not undone My shuddering soul.

POLONIA. And I have won, Here in this Babylon delayed, O'er wrath and rage the victory.

LUIS [within]. Thy feigned resemblance does not frighten me, Though thou dost take a form Might tempt my steps astray And make me turn despairing from my way.

POLONIA. Thy fear doth badly thee inform, Poor to be brave and rich to be afraid, For I Polonia am, and not her shade, The same that thou didst slay, But who by G.o.d's decree Restored to life, even in this misery, Is happier far to-day.

LUIS [within]. Since I my sinful state Confess, and feel too well its fearful weight, Thy wrong, oh, pardon too!

POLONIA. I give it, and approve of thy design.

LUIS [within]. My faith, at least, I never will resign.

POLONIA. That grace will be thy safeguard.

LUIS [within]. Then, adieu!

POLONIA. Adieu!

LUIS [within]. May G.o.d in pity save.

POLONIA. And bring thee back victorious from the cave.

SCENE VIII.

THE ENTRANCE OF A CONVENT -- AT THE END THE CAVE OF PATRICK.

Two Canons Regular; afterwards Luis.

FIRST CANON. See, the waters of the lake Move although no breeze doth blow:*

Without doubt to-day some pilgrim Roweth to this island sh.o.r.e.

[footnote] *Single asonante in the long accented o, which is kept up to the end of the Scene.

SECOND CANON. Come unto the strand to see Who can be so brave and bold As to seek our gloomy dwelling, Crossing the dark waters o'er.

[Enter LUIS.

LUIS. Here my boat, my coffin, rather, On the billows I bestow.

Who his sepulchre has ever Steered, as I, through fire and snow?

What a pleasant spot is this!

Here has Spring, methinks, invoked Flowers of high and low degree To a.s.semble at her court.

But this dismal mountain here, How unlike the plain below!

Yet they are the better friends By the contrasts that they show.

there the mournful birds of prey Hoa.r.s.ely croak, presaging woe, Here the warblers in their joy Charm us with their tuneful notes.

There the torrents leaping headlong Fright us with their frenzied roar, Here the crystal streamlets gliding Mirror back the sun's bright gold.

Half way 'twixt that ugliness And this beauty, I behold A plain building whose grave front Fear and love at once provokes.

FIRST CANON. Happy wanderer, who here Hast arrived with heart so bold, Come unto my arms.

LUIS. The ground That you tread on suits me more.

Oh, for charity conduct me To the Prior of your fold, To the Abbot of this convent.

FIRST CANON. Though unworthy, you behold Him in me. Speak. What's your wish?

LUIS. Father, if my name I told, I'm afraid that swiftly flying, With a terror uncontrolled, You would leave me: for my works Are so shocking to unfold, That to see them not, the sun Wraps him round in mourning robes.

I am an abyss of crimes, A wild sea that has no sh.o.r.e; I am a broad map of guilt, And the greatest sinner known.

Yes, in me, to tell it briefly In one comprehensive word (Here my breath doth almost fail me), Luis Enius behold!

I come here this cave to enter, If for sins so manifold Aught can ever satisfy, Let my penance thus atone To the Bishop of Hibernia I've confessed, and am absolved, Who informed of my intention With a gracious love consoled All my fears, and unto thee Sent these letters I unfold.

FIRST CANON. Do not in a single day Take, my son, a step so bold, For these things require precaution More than can at once be told.

Stay here as our guest some days, Then at leisure we can both See about it and decide.

LUIS. No, my father, no, oh, no!

Never from the ground I'll rise, Where here prostrate I am thrown, Till you grant to me this good.

It was G.o.d that touched my soul, And inspired me to come here; Not a vain desire to know, Not ambition to find out Secrets G.o.d, perchance, withholds.

Do not baffle this intention, For the call is heaven's alone.

Oh, my father! yield in pity, With me in my griefs condole, Give my sorrows consolation, Heal the anguish of my soul.

FIRST CANON. Luis, you have not considered what you ask of me; you know Nothing of the infernal torments You must bear: to undergo These your strength is insufficient.

Many are there, more the woe!

Who go in, but few, alas!

Who return.

LUIS. Your threats forebode Much; but still they fright not me; For I do protest, I go But to purge away my sins, Which if numbered are much more Than the atoms of the sun And the sands upon the sh.o.r.e.

I will ever have my hope Firmly fixed upon the Lord, At whose holy name even h.e.l.l Is subdued.

FIRST CANON. The fervid glow Of your words compels me now To unlock the awful doors.

Luis, you behold the cave: See!

[He opens the mouth of the cave.

LUIS. Oh, save me, gracious G.o.d!

FIRST CANON. What! dismayed?

LUIS. No, not dismayed; Still it scared me to behold.

FIRST CANON. I admonish you again, For no lesser cause to go, Than a firm belief that there For your sins you may atone.

LUIS. Father, I am in the cave: Listen to my voice once more, Men and wild beasts, skies and mountains, Day and night, and sun and moon, To you all I here protest, Ay, a thousand times make known, That I enter here to suffer Torments for my sins untold; For so great, so dread a penance Is but little to atone For such sins as mine, believing That the cave salvation holds.