Chapter 27

A REMOTE PART OF THE MOUNTAIN WITH THE MOUTH OF A HORRIBLE CAVE.

THE SAME.

KING. Look, O Patrick, for you go Turning towards a part forbidden, Where the light of the sun is hidden Even in the noon-tide's glow. Through this wilderness of woe Even the hunter in pursuit Of his prey ne'er placed a foot On its trackless wild walks green, Since for ages it has been Shunned alike by man and brute.

PHILIP. We for many and many a year, Who have lived here from our youth, Never dared to learn the truth Of the secrets hidden here; For the entrance did appear In itself enough to make Even the bravest heart to quake. No one yet has dared to brave The wild rocks that guard this cave, Or the waters of this lake.

KING. And for auguries we heard, Borne the troubled wind along, Oft the sad funereal song Of some lone nocturnal bird.

PHILIP. Be the rash attempt deferred.

PATRICK. Let not causeless fear arise; For a treasure of the skies Here is hidden.

KING. What is fear? Could it ever me come near In an earthquake's agonies? No; for though the flames should break As from some sulphureous lake, And the mountains' sides run red From the molten fires outshed, They could ne'er my courage shake, Never make me fear.

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