Collected Works of Poe by Edgar Allan Poe (the red fox clan .txt) 📖

(_resumes her reading._) _Jac._ I can't believe She has any more jewels -- no -- no -- she gave me all. (_aside._) _Lal._ What didst thou say, Jacinta? Now I bethink me Thou hast not spoken lately of thy wedding. How fares good Ugo?- and when is it to be? Can I do aught?- is there no farther aid Thou needest, Jacinta? _Jac_. Is there no _farther_ aid! That's meant for me. (_aside_) I'm sure, madam, you need not Be always throwing those jewels in my teeth. _Lal._ Jewels! Jacinta, -- now indeed, Jacinta, I thought not of the jewels. _Jac._ Oh! perhaps not! But then I might have sworn it. After all, There 's Ugo says the ring is only paste, For he 's sure the Count Castiglione never Would have given a real diamond to such as you; And at the best I'm certain, Madam, you cannot Have use for jewels _now._ But I might have sworn it. (_exit._) (_Lalage bursts into tears and leans her head upon the table -- after a short pause raises it._) _Lal._ Poor Lalage! -- and is it come to this? Thy servant maid! -- but courage! -- 'tis but a viper Whom thou hast cherished to sting thee to the soul! (_taking up the mirror_) Ha! here at least 's a friend -- too much a friend In earlier days -- a friend will not deceive thee. Fair mirror and true! now tell me (for thou canst) A tale -- a pretty tale -- and heed thou not Though it be rife with woe: It answers me. It speaks of sunken eyes, and wasted cheeks, And Beauty long deceased -- remembers me Of Joy departed -- Hope, the Seraph Hope, Inurned and entombed: -- now, in a tone Low, sad, and solemn, but most audible, Whispers of early grave untimely yawning For ruined maid. Fair mirror and true- thou liest not! Thou hast no end to gain -- no heart to break -- Castiglione lied who said he loved -- Thou true -- he false! -- false! -- false! (_While she speaks, a monk enters her apartment, and approaches unobserved._) _Monk._ Refuge thou hast, Sweet daughter, in Heaven. Think of eternal things! Give up thy soul to penitence, and pray! _Lal._ (arising hurriedly.) I _cannot_ pray! -- My soul is at war with God! The frightful sounds of merriment below Disturb my senses -- go! I cannot pray -- The sweet airs from the garden worry me! Thy presence grieves me -- go! -- thy priestly raiment Fills me with dread- thy ebony crucifix With horror and awe! _Monk._ Think of thy precious soul!

_ Lal._ Think of my early days! -- think of my father And mother in Heaven think of our quiet home, And the rivulet that ran before the door! Think of my little sisters! -- think of them! And think of me! -- think of my trusting love And confidence- his vows- my ruin -- think -- think Of my unspeakable misery! -- begone! Yet stay! yet stay! -- what was it thou saidst of prayer And penitence? Didst thou not speak of faith And vows before the throne?

_Monk._ I did.

_ Lal._ Lal. 'Tis well. There is a vow were fitting should be made -- A sacred vow, imperative, and urgent, A solemn vow!

_Monk._ Daughter, this zeal is well ! _Lal._ Father, this zeal is anything but well ! Hast thou a crucifix fit for this thing? A crucifix whereon to register This sacred vow? (_he hands her his own_) Not that- Oh! no! -- no! -- no! (_shuddering_) Not that! Not that! -- I tell thee, holy man, Thy raiments and thy ebony cross affright me! Stand back! I have a crucifix myself, -- I have a crucifix Methinks 'twere fitting The deed -- the vow -- the symbol of the deed -- And the deed's register should tally, father! (_draws a cross-handled dagger, and raises it on high_) Behold the cross wherewith a vow like mine Is written in Heaven! _Monk._ Thy words are madness, daughter, And speak a purpose unholy- thy lips are livid -- Thine eyes are wild -- tempt not the wrath divine! Pause ere too late! -- oh, be not -- be not rash! Swear not the oath -- oh, swear it not! _Lal. _'Tis sworn! III. An apartment in a Palace. Politian and Baldazzar. _Baldazzar_. -- -- -- Arouse thee now, Politian! Thou must not -- nay indeed, indeed, shalt not Give away unto these humors. Be thyself! Shake off the idle fancies that beset thee, And live, for now thou diest! _Politian_. Not so, Baldazzar! _Surely_ I live. _Bal_. Politian, it doth grieve me To see thee thus. _Pol_. Baldazzar, it doth grieve me To give thee cause for grief, my honoured friend. Command me, sir! what wouldst thou have me do? At thy behest I will shake off that nature Which from my, forefathers I did inherit, Which with my mother's milk I did imbibe, And be no more Politian, but some other. Command me, sir!

_ Bal_. To the field, then -- to the field -- To the senate or the field.

_Pol_. Alas! Alas! There is an imp would follow me even there! There is an imp _hath_ followed me even there! There is -- what voice was that?

_ Bal_. I heard it not. I heard not any voice except thine own, And the echo of thine own.

_ Pol_. Then I but dreamed.

_ Bal_. Give not thy soul to dreams: the camp -- the court, Befit thee -- Fame awaits thee -- Glory calls -- And her the trumpet-tongued thou wilt not hear In hearkening to imaginary sounds And phantom voices.

_ Pol_. It is a phantom voice! Didst thou not hear it then?

_ Bal_. I heard it not.

_ Pol_. Thou heardst it not! -- Baldazaar, speak no more To me, Politian, of thy camps and courts. Oh! I am sick, sick, sick, even unto death, Of the hollow and high-sounding vanities Of the populous Earth! Bear with me yet awhile! We have been boys together -- schoolfellows -- And now are friends -- yet shall not be so long -- For in the eternal city thou shalt do me A kind and gentle office, and a Power -- A Power august, benignant and supreme -- Shall then absolve thee of all further duties Unto thy friend.

_ Bal_. Thou speakest a fearful riddle I will not understand.

_ Pol_. Yet now as Fate Approaches, and the Hours are breathing low, The sands of Time are changed to golden grains, And dazzle me, Baldazzar. Alas! alas! I cannot die, having within my heart So keen a relish for the beautiful As hath been kindled within it. Methinks the air Is balmier now than it was wont to be -- Rich melodies are floating in the winds -- A rarer loveliness bedecks the earth -- And with a holier lustre the quiet moon Sitteth in Heaven. -- Hist! hist! thou canst not say Thou hearest not now, Baldazzar?

_ Bal_. Indeed I hear not.

_ Pol_. Not hear it! -- listen now! -- listen! -- the faintest sound And yet the sweetest that ear ever heard! A lady's voice! -- and sorrow in the tone! Baldazzar, it oppresses me like a spell! Again! -- again! -- how solemnly it falls Into my heart of hearts! that eloquent voice Surely I never heard -- yet it were well Had I but heard it with its thrilling tones In earlier days!

_ Bal_. I myself hear it now. Be still! -- the voice, if I mistake not greatly, Proceeds from yonder lattice -- which you may see Very plainly through the window -- it belongs, Does it not? unto this palace of the Duke. The singer is undoubtedly beneath The roof of his Excellency -- and perhaps Is even that Alessandra of whom he spoke As the betrothed of Castiglione, His son and heir.

_ Pol_. Be still! -- it comes again!

_Voice_ "And is thy heart so strong (_very faintly_) As for to leave me thus Who hath loved thee so long In wealth and woe among? And is thy heart so strong As for to leave me thus? Say nay -- say nay!"

_ Bal_. The song is English, and I oft have heard it In merry England -- never so plaintively -- Hist! hist! it comes again!

_Voice_ "Is it so strong (_more loudly_) As for to leave me thus Who hath loved thee so long In wealth and woe among? And is thy heart so strong As for to leave me thus? Say nay -- say nay!"

_ Bal_. 'Tis hushed and all is still!

_ Pol_. All is not still!

_ Bal_. Let us go down.

_ Pol_. Go down, Baldazzar, go!

_ Bal_. The hour is growing late -- the Duke awaits use -- Thy presence is expected in the hall Below. What ails thee, Earl Politian?

_Voice_ "Who hath loved thee so long (_distinctly_) In wealth and woe among, And is thy heart so strong? Say nay -- say nay!"

_ Bal_. Let us descend! -- 'tis time. Politian, give These fancies to the wind. Remember, pray, Your bearing lately savored much of rudeness Unto the Duke. Arouse thee! and remember

_ Pol_. Remember? I do. Lead on! I do remember.

(_going._) Let us descend. Believe me I would give, Freely would give the broad lands of my earldom To look upon the face hidden by yon lattice -- "To gaze upon that veiled face, and