A league of street in summer solstice down,

Than hammer at this reverend gentlewoman.

PRINCE. And like a warrior you laid siege to her? CYRIL. I knocked, and, bidden, entered, found her there At point to move, and settled in her eyes

The green malignant light of coming storm.

PRINCE. I trust she did not seem to take offence.

CYRIL. Sir, I was courteous, every phrase well-oiled
As man's could be; yet maiden-meek I prayed
Concealment she demanded who we were,
And why we came. I fabled nothing fair,
But, your example pilot, told her all.

Up went the hushed amaze of hand and eye.

PRINCE. And when you dwelt upon our old affiance?
CYRIL. She answered sharply, that I talked astray.
PRINCE. Showed she no pity, fear, or policy?
CYRIL. I urged the fierce inscription on the gate,
And our three lives. True we had limed ourselves
With open eyes, and we must take the chance.
But such extremes, I told her, well might harm
The woman's cause. "Not more than now," she said,
"So puddled as it is with favoritism.”

PRINCE. And fair Melissa, said you naught of her? CYRIL. I tried the mother's heart. Shame might befall Melissa, knowing, saying not she knew.

Her answer was,

"Leave me to deal with that."

PRINCE. What of the wrath of kings and public feuds? CYRIL. I spoke of war to come and many deaths.

And she replied, her duty was to speak,

And duty, duty, clear of consequences.

PRINCE.

You had indeed no easy argument.

CYRIL. I grew discouraged, sir; but since I knew No rock so hard but that a little wave

May beat admission in a thousand years,

I recommenced: "Decide not ere you pause.
I find you here but in the second place,

Some say the third the authentic foundress you.
I offer boldly; we will seat you highest :
Wink at our advent: help my Prince to gain
His rightful bride, and here I promise you

Some palace in our own land, where you shall reign
The head and heart of all our fair she-world,

And your great name flow on with broadening time
Forever."

PRINCE.

Ha! the citadel must then

Have yielded.

CYRIL.

Well, she balanced this a little,

And told me she would answer us to-day,

Meantime be mute; thus much, no more, I gained.

(Enter MESSENGER.)

MESSENGER. This afternoon the Princess rides to take

The dip of certain strata to the North.

You will go with her. You shall find the land

Worth seeing; and the river makes a fall

Out yonder. There upon the sward

She bids her maids pitch her pavilion.

[Exeunt.

36

INTERLUDE II.

The splendor falls on castle walls

And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!

O sweet and far from cliff and scar

The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O love! they die in yon rich sky,

They faint on hill or field or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,

And grow forever and forever.

Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying; And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-A PAVILION IN THE PARK.

Sunset. Tripod bearing flowers, fruit, and incense. Enter PRINCESS and her train of students, with the PRINCE, CYRIL, and FLORIAN. PRINCESS. There sinks the nebulous star men call the sun, If that hypothesis of theirs be sound.

Let us down and rest.

(They all sit down.)

PRINCESS. Let some one sing to us;

Lightlier move the minutes fledged with music.

MAID (sings).

SONG.

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,

In looking on the happy autumn fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.

Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one

That sinks with all we love below the verge;

So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.

Ah! sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds

To dying ears, when unto dying eyes

The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.

Dear as remembered kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned
On lips that are for others: deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret ;

O Death in Life! the days that are no more.

PRINCESS (to PRINCE). Know you no song of your own

land,

Not such as moans about the retrospect,

But deals with the other distance and the hues
Of promise; not a death's head at the wine?
PRINCE (sings).

SONG.

O swallow, swallow, flying, flying South,
Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves,
And tell her, tell her what I tell to thee.

O tell her, swallow, that thou knowest each,
That bright and fierce and fickle is the South,
And dark and true and tender is the North.

O swallow, swallow, if I could follow and light
Upon her lattice, I would pipe and trill
And cheep and twitter twenty million loves.

O were I thou that she might take me in,
And lay me on her bosom, and her heart
Would rock the snowy cradle till I died.

Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with love,
Delaying as the tender ash delays

To clothe herself, when all the woods are green?

O tell her, swallow, that thy brood is flown:
Say to her, I do but wanton in the South,
But in the North long since my nest is made.

O tell her, brief is life, but love is long,
And brief the sun of summer in the North,
And brief the moon of beauty in the South.