Festus · Scene 21 (2/2) (1/2)
Lucifer* and Elissa*.
Lucifer Night comes, world-jewelled, as my bride should be. The stars rush forth in myriads as to wage War with the lines of Darkness; and the moon, Pale ghost of Night, comes haunting the cold earth After the sun’s red sea-death⁠—quietless. Immortal Night! I love thee. Thou and I Are of one seed⁠—the eldest blood of God. He makes; we mar together all things⁠—all But our own selves. Love makes thee cold and tremble, And me all fire. Do off that starry robe; Catch me up to thee. Let us love, and die, And weld our souls together, Night! But here Cometh mine earthly. My Elissa! welcome.
Elissa Is’t not a lovely, nay, a heavenly eve?
Lucifer Thy presence only makes it so to me. The moments thou art with me are like stars Peering through my dark life.
Elissa Nay, speak not so, Or I shall weep, and thou wilt turn away From woman’s tears: yet are they woman’s wealth.
Lucifer Then keep thy treasures, lady! I would not have The world, if prized at one sad tear of thine. One tear of beauty can outweigh a world Even of sin and sorrow, heavy as this; But beauty cannot sin and should not weep, For she is mortal. Oh! let deathless things Alone weep. Why should aught that dies be sad?
Elissa The noble mind is oft too generous, And, by protecting, weakens lesser ones; And tears must come of feeling though they quench As oft the light which love lit in the eye.
Lucifer And thy love ever hangs about my heart Like the pure pearl-wreath which enrings thy brow. I meant not to be mournful. Tel me, now, How thou hast passed the hours since last we met?
Elissa I have, stayed the livelong day within this bower; It was here that thou did promise me to come⁠— Watching from wanton morn to repentant eve, The self-same roses ope and close; untired, Listening the same hirds’ first and latest songs⁠— And still thou camest not. To the mind which waits Upon one hour the others are but slaves. The week hath but one day⁠—the day one hour⁠— That hour of the heart⁠—that lord of time.
Lucifer Sweet one! I raced with light and passed the laggard To meet thee⁠—or, I mean I could have done⁠— Yea, have outsped the very dart of Death⁠— Se much I sought; and were I living light From God, with leave to range the world, and choose Another brow than His whereon to beam⁠— To mark what even an angel could but covet⁠— A something lovelier than Heaven’s loveliness⁠— To thee I straight would dart unheeding all The lives of other worlds, even those who name Themselves thy kind; for oft my mind o’ersoars The stars; and pondering upon what may be Of their chief lording natures, man’s seems worst⁠— The darkest, meanest, which, through all these worlds, Drags what is deathless, may be, down to dust.
Elissa Speak not so bitterly of human kind; I know that thou dost love it. Hast not heard Of those great spirits, who, the greater grow, The better we are able them to prize? Great minds can never cease; yet have they not A separate estate of deathlessness: The future is a remnant of their life: Our time is part of theirs, not theirs of ours: They know the thoughts of ages long before. It is not the weak mind feels the great mind’s might; None but the great can test it. Does the oak Or reed feel the strong storm most? Oh! unsay What thou hast said of man; nor deem me wrong. Mind cannot mind despise⁠—it is itself. Mind must love mind: the great and good are friends; And he is but half great who is not good. And, oh! humanity is the fairest flower Blooming in earthly breasts; so sweet and pure, That it might freshen even the fadeless wreaths Twined round the golden harps of those in Heaven.
Lucifer For thy sake I will love even man, or aught. Spirit were I, and a mere mortal thou, For thy sake I would even seek to die; That, dead, or living, I might still be with thee. But no! I’ll deem thee deathless⁠—mind and make, And worthier of some spirit’s love than mine; Yea, of the first-born of God’s sons, could he In that sweet shade thy beauty casts o’er all, One moment lay and cool his burning soul; Or might the ark of his wide flood-like woe But rest upon that mount of peace and bliss⁠— Thy heart inbosomed in all beauteousness. Nay, lady! shrink not. Thinkest thou I am he?
Elissa Thou art too noble, far. I oft have wished, Ere I knew thee, I had some spirit’s love; But thou art more like what I sought than man, And a forbidden quest, it seems; for thou Hast more of awe than love about thee, like The mystery of dreams which we can feel, But cannot touch.
Lucifer Nay, think not so! It is wrong. Come, let us sit in this thy favourite bower, And I win hear thee sing. I love that voice, Dipping more softly on the subject ear Than that calm kiss the willow gives the wave⁠— A soft rich tone, a rainbow of sweet sounds, Just spanning the soothed sense. Come, nay me not.
Elissa Do thou lead out some lay; I’ll follow thine.
Lucifer Well, I agree. It will spare me much of shame In coming after thee. My song is said Of Lucifer the star. See there he shines! Sings. I am Lucifer, the star: Oh! think on me, As I lighten from afar The Heavens and thee! In town, or tower, Or this fair bower, Oh! think on me; Though a wandering star, As the loveliest are, I love but thee. Lady! When I brightest beam, Love! look on me! I am not what I may seem To the world or thee; But fain would love With thee above, Where thou wilt be. But if love be a dream, As the world doth deem, What is’t to me?
Elissa Could we but deem the stars had hearts, and loved, They would seem happier, holier, even than now; And ah! why not? they are so beautiful; And love is part and union in itself Of all that is in nature brilliant, pure⁠— Of all in feeling sacred and sublime. Surely the stars are images of love: The sunbeam and the starbeam doth bring love. The sky, the sea, the rainbow, and the stream And dark blue hill, where all the loveliness Of earth and Heaven, in sweet extatic strife, Seem mingling hues which might immortal be, If length of life by height of beauty went: All seem but made for love⁠—love made for all: We do become all heart with those we love: It is nature’s self⁠—it is everywhere⁠—it is here.
Lucifer To me there is but one place in the world, And that where thou art; for where’er I be, Thy love doth seek its way into my heart, As will a bird into her secret nest: Then sit and sing; sweet wing of beauty, sing.
Elissa Bright one! who dwellest in the happy skies, Rejoicing in thy light as does the brave, In his keen flashing sword, and his strong arm’s Swift swoop, canst thou, from among the sons of men, Single out those who love thee as do I Thee from thy fellow glories? If so, star, Turn hither thy bright front; I love thee, friend. Thou hast no deeds of darkness. All thou dost Is to us light and beauty: yea, thou art A globe all glory; thou who at the first Didst answer to the angels which in Heaven Sang the bright birth of earth, and even now, As star by tar is born, dost sing the same With countless hosts in infinite delight, Be unto me a moment! Write thy bright Light on my heart before the sun shall rise And vanquish sight. Thou art the prophecy Of light which He fulfils. Speak, shining star, Drop from thy golden lips the truths of Heaven; First of all stars and favourite of the skies, Apostle of the sun⁠—thou upon whom His mantle resteth⁠—speak, prophetic beauty! Speak, shining star out of the heights of Heaven, Beautiful being, speak to God for man! Is it because of beauty thou wast chosen To be the sign of sin? For surely sin Must be surpassing lovely when for her Men forfeit God’s reward of deathless bliss And life divine; or, is it that such beauty, Sometimes, before the truth, and sometimes after, As is a moral or a prophecy, Is ever warning? Why wast thou accorded To the great Evil? Is it because thou art Of all the sun’s bright servants nearest earth? And shall we then forget that Christ hath said He is thyself, the light-bringer of Heaven? Star of the morning! unto us thou art The presage of a day of power. Like thee Let us rejoice in life, then, and proclaim A glory coming greater than our own. All ages are but stars to that which comes, Sunlike. Oh! speak, star! Lift thou up thy voice Out of yon radiant ranks, and I on earth, As thou in Heaven, will bless the Lord God ever. Hear, Lucifer, thou star! I answer thee. Sings. Oh! ask me not to look and love, But bid me worship thee; For thou art earthly things above, As far as angels be: Then whether in the eve or morn Thou dost the maiden skies adorn, Oh! let me worship thee! I am but as this drop of dew; Oh! let me worship thee! Thy light, thy strength, is ever new, Even as the angels’ be: And as this dew-drop, till it dies, Bosoms the golden stars and skies, Oh! let me worship thee! But, dearest, why that dark look?
Lucifer Let it not Cloud thine even with its shadow: but the ground Of all great thoughts is sadness; and I mused Upon past happiness. Well⁠—be it past! Did Lucifer, as I do, gaze on thee, The flame of woe would flicker in his breast, And straight die out⁠—the brightness of thy beauty Quenching it as the sun doth earthly fire.
Elissa Nay, look not on me so intensely sad.
Lucifer Forgive me: it was an agony of bliss. I love thee, and am full of happiness. My bosom bounds beneath thy smile as doth The sea’s unto the moon, his mighty mistress; Lying and looking up to her, and saying⁠— Lovely! lovely! lovely! lady of the Heavens! Oh! when the thoughts of other joyous days⁠— Perchance, if such may be, of happier times⁠— Are falling gently on the memory Like autumn leaves distained with dusky gold, Yet softly as a snowflake; and the smile Of kindliness, like thine, is beaming on me⁠— Oh! pardon, if I lose myself, nor know Whether I be with Heaven or thee.
Elissa Use not Such ardent phrase, nor mix the claim of aught On earth with thoughts more than with hopes of Heaven.
Lucifer Hopes, lady! I have none.
Elissa Thou must have. All Have hopes, however wretched they may be, Or blest. It is hope which lifts the lark so high⁠— Hope of a lighter air and bluer sky: And the poor hack which drops down on the flints⁠— Upon whose eye the dust is settling⁠— He hopes to die. No being is which hath Not love and hope.
Lucifer Yes⁠—one! The ancient Ill, Dwelling and damned through all which is; that spirit Whose heart is hate⁠—who is the foe of God⁠— The foe of all.
Elissa How knowest thou such doth live? Love is the happy privilege of mind⁠— Love is the reason of all living things. A Trinity there seems of principles, Which represent and rule created life⁠— The love of self, our fellows, and our God. In all throughout one common feeling reigns: Each doth maintain and is maintained by the other; All are compatible⁠—all needful; one To life⁠—to virtue one⁠—and one to bliss; Which thus together make the power, the end, And the perfection of created Being. From these three principles doth every deed, Desire, and will, and reasoning, good or bad, come; To these they all determine⁠—sum and scheme: The three are one in centre and in round; Wrapping the world of life as do the skies Our world. Hail! air of love by which we live! How sweet, how fragrant! Spirit, though unseen⁠— Void of gross sign⁠—is scarce a simple essence, Immortal, immaterial, though it be. One only simple essence liveth⁠—God⁠— Creator, uncreate. The brutes beneath, The angels high above us, with ourselves, Are but compounded things of mind and form. In all things animate is therefore cored An elemental sameness of existence; For God, being Love, in love created all, As He contains the whole, and penetrates. Seraphs love God, and angels love the good: We love each other; and these lower lives, Which walk the earth in thousand diverse shapes, According to their reason, love us too: The most intelligent affect us most. Nay, man’s chief wisdom’s love⁠—the love of God. The new religion⁠—final perfect, pure⁠— Was that of Christ and love. His great command⁠— His all-sufficing precept⁠—was’t not love? Truly to love ourselves we must love God⁠— To love God we must all His creatures love⁠— To love His creatures, both ourselves and Him. Thus love is all that’s wise, fair, good, and happy.
Lucifer How knowest thou God doth live? Why did He not, With that creating hand which sprinkled stars On space’s bosom, bidding her breathe and wake From the long death-like trance in which she lay⁠— With that same hand which scattered o’er the sky, As this small dust I strew upon the wind, Yon countless orbs, aye fixing each on Him Its flaming eye, which winks and blenches oft Beneath His glance⁠—with the finger of that hand Which spangled o’er infinity with suns, And wrapped it round about Him as a robe⁠— Why did He not write out his own great name In spheres of fire, that Heaven might alway tell To every creature, God? If not, then why Should I believe when I behold around me Nought scarce, save ill and woe?
Elissa God surely lives! Without God all things are in tunnel darkness. Let there be God, and all are sun⁠—all God. And to the just soul, in a future state, Defect’s dark mist, thick-spreading o’er this vale, Shall dim the eye no more, nor bound survey; And evil, now which boweth being down As dew the grass, shall only fit all life For fresher growth and for intenser day, Where God shall dry all tears as the sun dew.
Lucifer Oh! lady, I am wretched.
Elissa Say not so. With thee I could not deem myself unhappy. Hark to the sea! It sounds like the near hum Of a great city.
Lucifer Say, the city earth; For such these orbs are in the realms of space.