The Purgatory of St. Patrick Part 15

SCENE VI.

A WOOD, IN THE CENTRE OF WHICH IS SEEN A MOUNTAIN, FROM WHICH POLONIA DESCENDS.

POLONIA.

POLONIA. To Thee, O Lord, my spirit climbs, To Thee from every lonely hill I burn to sacrifice my will A thousand and a thousand times.

And such my boundless love to Thee I wish each will of mine a living soul could be.

Would that my love I could have shown, By leaving for Thy sake, instead Of that poor crown that press'd my head, Some proud, imperial crown and throne -- Some empire which the sun surveys Through all its daily course and gilds with constant rays.

This lowly grot, 'neath rocks uphurled, In which I dwell, though poor and small, A spur of that stupendous wall, The eighth great wonder of the world, Doth in its little s.p.a.ce excel The grandest palace where a king doth dwell.

Far better on some natural lawn To see the morn its gems bestrew, Or watch it weeping pearls of dew Within the white arms of the dawn; Or view, before the sun, the stars Drive o'er the brightening plain their swiftly-fading cars.

Far better in the mighty main, As night comes on, and clouds grow grey, To see the golden coach of day Drive down amid the waves of Spain.

But be it dark, or be it bright, O Lord! I praise Thy name by day and night.

Than to endure the inner strife, The specious glare, but real weight Of pomp, and power, and pride, and state, And all the vanities of life; How would we shudder could we deem That life itself, in truth, is but a fleeting dream.

SCENE VII.

LUIS. -- POLONIA.

LUIS [aside]. True to my purpose on I go, With footsteps firm and bosom brave, Seeking for that mysterious cave Wherein the pitying heavens will show How I salvation there may gain, By bearing in this life the Purgatorial pain.

[To POLONIA.

Tell me, O holy woman! thou Who in these wilds a home hast found, A dweller in this mountain ground Obedient to some sacred vow, Which is the road to Patrick's cave, Where penitential man his soul in life may save?

POLONIA. O, happy traveller! who here Hast come so far in storm and s.h.i.+ne, Within this treasury divine To feel and find salvation near, Well can I guide thee on thy way, Since 'tis for this alone amid these wilds I stray.

Seest thou this mountain?

LUIS. Ah! I see My death in it.

POLONIA [aside]. My heart grows cold.

Ah! who is this that I behold?

LUIS [aside]. I cannot think it. Is it she?

POLONIA [aside]. 'Tis Luis, now I know.

LUIS [aside]. Perhaps illusion it may be To baffle my intent, and lead My erring feet astray. -- [to POLONIA}. Proceed.

POLONIA [aside]. Say, can it be to conquer me The common enemy doth send This spectre here?

LUIS. You do not speak.

POLONIA. Attend.

This mighty mountain, rock bestrown, Full well the dreaded secret knows; But no one to its centre goes By any path o'er land alone: He who would see this wondrous cave Must in a bark put forth and tempt the lake's dark wave.

[Aside.] I struggle with a wish to wreak Revenge, which pity doth subdue.

LUIS [aside]. It doth my happiness renew Once more to see and hear her speak.

POLONIA [aside]. Within me opposite thoughts contend.

LUIS [aside]. Ah, me! I die. -- You do not speak.

POLONIA. Attend.

This darksome lake doth all surround The lofty mountain's rugged base, And so to reach the awful place An easy pa.s.sage may be found: A sacred convent in the island stands, Midway between the mountain and the sands.

Some pious priests inhabit there, And for this task alone they live, With loving zeal to freely give The helping hand, the strengthening prayer -- Confession, and the Holy Ma.s.s, And every needful help to all who thither pa.s.s.

Telling them what they first must do, Before they dare presume to go, Alive, within the realm of woe.-- [Aside.] Let not this enemy subdue My soul, O Lord!

LUIS [aside]. My hopes are fair.

Let me not feel, O Lord! the anguish of despair,

Seeing before my startled sight My greatest, deepest crime arise; Let not the fiend my soul that tries, Subdue me in this dreadful fight.

POLONIA [aside]. 'Gainst what a powerful foe must I defend Myself to-day!

LUIS. You do not speak.

POLONIA. Attend.

LUIS. With quicker speed your story tell, For well I know my soul hath need That I should go with swifter speed!

POLONIA. And me it doth import as well That you should go away.

LUIS. Agreed.

Now, woman, point the way to where my path doth lead.

POLONIA. No one accompanied can brave The terrors of this gloomy lake; And so a skiff you needs must take, And try alone the icy wave; Being in that most trying strait The absolute master of your acts and fate.

Come where within a secret cave Beside the sh.o.r.e the boat doth lie, And trusting in the Lord on high, Embark upon the crystal wave Of this remote lone inland sea.

LUIS. My life and all I have I place, O Lord! in Thee.

And so I trust me to the bark; But, O my soul! what sight is here, A coffin doth the bark appear; And I upon the waters dark Alone must cross the icy tide.

[He enters.