The Purgatory of St. Patrick - Part 9
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Part 9

SCENE XI.

PAUL and LUCY. -- LUIS.

LUCY [within]. Who's there?

LUIS. A traveller, Benighted, his way lost, confused, distressed, Good worthy husbandman, disturbs thy rest.

LUCY [within]. Ho, Juan! how you snore!

Awake! there's some one knocking at the door.

PAUL [within]. Why, I am well enough here in my bed.

He knocks for you, so answer him instead.

LUCY [within]. Who's there?

LUIS. A traveller, I say.

PAUL [within]. A traveller?

LUIS. Yes.

PAUL [within]. Then travel on, I pray.

This cabin is no inn, sir, not a bit.

LUIS. I'm getting weary of this fellow's wit.

I'll try what kicking in the door will do.

[Drives in the door.

Ay, there it goes.

LUCY [within]. Why, Juan Paul, halloo!

Awake, I say, for if I don't mistake, The door's knocked in.

PAUL [within]. Well, one eye is awake, But underneath its lid the other's laid.-- Come with me, Lucy, for I'm sore afraid.

[Enter PAUL and LUCY.

Who's there?

LUIS. Be silent, peasants, and attend If you would not that now your lives should end.

Lost in this woodland waste I sought your door; and so, my friend, make haste To tell me the best way From this to the port, where I by break of day May from the coast get clear.

PAUL. Go right ahead: first take the pathway here, They left, then right again, Rise where there's hill, descend where there's a plain, And going thus, in short, The port you'll reach when you have reached the port.

LUIS. 'Tis better that you come Along with me, or by the heavens o'erhead, Your blood shall stain the ground on which you tread.

LUCY. Were it not better, cavalier, To pa.s.s the night here till the dawn appear?

PAUL. How very kind you are when least expected!

Are you already to this knight infected?

LUIS. Choose now, at once, I say, To die or guide me.

PAUL. Don't be vexed, I pray; If I without more haggling or vain clack Select to go, and carry you on my back, If so you chose, 'tis not that death I fear, But just to disappoint my Lucy here.

LUIS [aside]. That he may not betray Whither I go, to those who track my way, Him from some cliff I'll throw Headlong amid the icy waves below.-- [To LUCY.

You with this consolation here remain Your husband will be with you soon again.

[Exeunt the two at one side, and she at the other.

SCENE XII.

The King EGERIUS, LESBIA, LEOGAIRE, The Captain; afterwards PHILIP.

LESBIA. Not a trace of them is found; All the mountain, hill and valley, Leaf by leaf has been explored, Bough by bough has been examined, Rock by rock has been searched through, Still no clue wherewith to track them Can we light on.

KING. Without doubt, To preserve them from my anger, Has the earth engulphed the two; For not heaven itself could guard them From my wrath if still they lived.

LESBIA. See the sun his disentangled Golden tresses far extends Over mountains, groves and gardens, Showing that the day hath come.

[Enter PHILIP.

PHILIP. Deign, your majesty, to hearken To a tragedy more dreadful, To a crime more unexampled Than has time or fortune ever Yet recorded in earth's annals.

Seeking traces of Polonia Through these savage woods distracted Roamed I restless all the night-time, Till at length and amid the darkness Half awakened rose the dawn; Not in veils of gold and amber Was she dressed, a robe of mourning Formed of clouds composed her mantle, And with discontented light Hidden were the stars and planets, Though for this one time alone They were happy in their absence.

Searching there in every part, We approached where blood was spattered On the tender dewy flower, And upon the ground some fragments of a woman's dress were strewn.

By these signs at once attracted, We went on, 'till at the foot Of a great rock overhanging, In a fragrant tomb of roses Lay Polonia, dead and stabbed there.

SCENE XIII.

POLONIA dead; and afterwards PATRICK. -- THE SAME.

PHILIP. Turn your eyes, and here you see The young tree of beauty blasted, Pale and sad the opening flower, The bright flame abruptly darkened; See here loveliness laid prostrate, See warm life here turned to marble, See, alas! Polonia dead.

KING. Philip, cease! proceed no farther!

For I have not resignation To bear up with any calmness 'Gainst so many forms of wrong, 'Gainst so many shapes of sadness, 'Gainst such manifold misfortunes.

Ah, my daughter! Ah, thou hapless Treasure fatally found for me!

LESBIA. Grief my feeling so o'ermasters That I have not breath to mourn.

Ah! of all thy woes the partner Let thy wretched sister be!

KING. What rude hand in ruffian anger Raised its b.l.o.o.d.y steel against Beauty so divinely fashioned?

Sorrow, sorrow ends my life.