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(From Act II. Scene IV.)
Translated by Denis Florence M’Carthy
KING. Pause, O Patrick! thou art going | |
| To a dark and dismal spot,— | |
| Where the midday sun hath not | |
| Ever entered bright and glowing,— | |
| Where no living thing is growing, | 5 |
| Shunned at once by man and brute. | |
| Cease then from thy vain endeavor, | |
| For that rugged path was never | |
| Trodden by a human foot! | |
| PHILIP. We for many a lengthened year, | 10 |
| Who have lived here from our youth, | |
| Never dared to learn the truth | |
| Of the secrets hidden here: | |
| For the entrance did appear | |
| Terror-guarded, as to make | 15 |
| Even the bravest bosom chill! | |
| None have ever crossed this hill, | |
| Or this dark mysterious lake. | |
| KING. And the only sound we heard, | |
| Borne the troubled wind along, | 20 |
| Was the sad funereal song | |
| Of some lone nocturnal bird. | |
| PHILIP. Do not persist to enter here. | |
| PATRICK. Let not fear disturb your breasts,— | |
| ’T is a heavenly treasure rests | 25 |
| In this cavern. | |
| KING. What is fear? | |
| Could the wild volcano wake | |
| Any feeling of the name? | |
| No; although the central flame | 30 |
| Rushed thereout, and lightnings brake | |
| From the heaven’s disjointed sphere,— | |
| Though the covered earth were brown | |
| With the smoke and fire rained down, | |
| Yet my soul were proof to fear. | 35 |
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Enter POLONIA. POLONIA. Stay! unhappy people, stay! | |
| Daring, wild, and indiscreet, | |
| Pass not in with erring feet,— | |
| Ruin lieth in the way! | |
| From myself, with hurried footsteps, flying, | 40 |
| I have sought this wilderness profound: | |
| Where the pure bright summer beam is dying | |
| In the shadow of this hill oak-crowned,— | |
| That at length as in its dark grave lying, | |
| Never more could my offence be found; | 45 |
| Here I seek a brief repose from strife, | |
| Shutting out the angry waves of life,— | |
| Not a guide had hostile fate decreed me, | |
| As I dared upon my path to stray, | |
| Vain the hand that would attempt to lead me, | 50 |
| Through the tangled wildness of the way; | |
| From the terror yet I have not freed me,— | |
| From the admiration and dismay, | |
| Which were wakened by this mountain’s gloom, | |
| And the hidden wonders of its womb; | 55 |
| See this rock (that it has not descended | |
| O’er the vale a miracle appears!) | |
| Still it hangs as it has hung suspended, | |
| Threatening ruin for unnumbered years; | |
| In the mountain’s caverned jaws extended | 60 |
| Still it lieth,—checks and interferes | |
| With the breath that from this cave escapes, | |
| Wherewith the melancholy mountain gapes: | |
| By these cypress-trees, in terror speeding | |
| Through the lips of severed rocks, I strayed, | 65 |
| There I saw a monstrous neck receding, | |
| Deep and dark and noisome in the shade, | |
| Though little life the sunless air was breeding, | |
| Some useless plants about the entrance played | |
| Of that vast space,—the horror and affright | 70 |
| Of day, and dwelling of the frozen night: | |
| I entered there to try and make my dwelling | |
| Within the cave: but here my accents fail, | |
| My troubled voice, against my will rebelling, | |
| Doth interrupt so terrible a tale: | 75 |
| What novel horror, all the past excelling, | |
| Mast I relate to you, with cheeks all pale, | |
| Without cold terror on my bosom seizing, | |
| And even my voice, my breath, my action freezing? | |
| But scarce had I o’ercome my hesitation, | 80 |
| And gone within the cavern’s vaults profound, | |
| When I heard such shrieks of lamentation, | |
| Screams of grief that shook the walls around,— | |
| Curses, blasphemy, and desperation; | |
| Crimes avowed that would even Hell astound,— | 85 |
| Which the Heavens, determined not to hear, | |
| Had placed within this prison dark and drear. | |
| Let him come who doubts what I am telling,— | |
| Let him bravely enter who denies,— | |
| Soon his ears shall hear the dreadful yelling, | 90 |
| Soon the horrors gleam, before his eyes,— | |
| But for me I feel my bosom swelling, | |
| And my tongue grow silent with surprise: | |
| I must cease,—for it is wrong, I feel, | |
| Heaven’s most wondrous secrets to reveal. | 95 |
| PATRICK. This cave, Egerio, which you see, concealeth | |
| Many mysteries of life and death, | |
| Not for him whose hardened bosom feeleth | |
| Naught of true repentance or true faith. | |
| But he who freely enters, who revealeth | 100 |
| All his sins with penitential breath, | |
| Shall endure his purgatory then, | |
| And return forgiven back again. * * * * * | |
| POLONIA. Attend!— | |
| This darksome lake doth all surround | 105 |
| Yon hill that cleaves the heavens’ deep blue,— | |
| Across whose level wave, by you, | |
| An easy pathway may be found; | |
| And in the middle of the isle | |
| A convent’s sacred walls beneath the sunlight smile; | 110 |
| Some holy monks inhabit there, | |
| And for this task alone they live, | |
| With pious zeal to freely give | |
| The helping hand, the strengthening prayer,— | |
| Confession, and the Sacred Mass, | 115 |
| And every pious aid to all who thither pass, | |
| Telling them what they first must do | |
| Before they dare presume to go, | |
| Alive, within the realm of woe. * * * * * | |
| No one accompanied can pass | 120 |
| Across the bosom of this lake. | |
| But each a little bark must take | |
| And try alone the rippling glass, | |
| Being in that most trying strait | |
| The lord of his own deeds, the master of his fate. | 125 |
| Come where within a secret cave | |
| Beside the shore the boat doth lie, | |
| And, trusting in the Lord on high, | |
| Embark upon the crystal wave | |
| Of this remote and lonely sea. | 130 |
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