Chapter 39
JUSTINA; music within. [They sing within.]
A VOICE. What is the glory far above, All else that life can give?
CHORUS OF VARIOUS VOICES. Love love.
A VOICE. No creature lives on which love's flame Has not impressed its burning seal, The man feels more who love doth feel Than when Life's breath first warmed his frame. Love owns one universal claim,-- To Love, it only needs To Be,-- Whether a bird, a flower, a tree: Then the chief glory, far above All else in life must be....
CHORUS [within]. Love, love.
JUSTINA [alarmed and restless]. Fancy, flatter that thou art, Though thou should'st be sad to-day, When did I to thee impart, In this strange and sudden way, Licence to afflict my heart? What thus makes my pulses move? What strange fire is this I prove Which each moment doth increase? Ah! this pain that ends my peace, This sweet unrest, ah, what?
CHORUS. Love, love.
JUSTINA [more composed]. 'Tis that enamoured nightingale Who thus gives me the reply:-- To his partner in the vale Listening on a bough hard by Warbling thus his tuneful wail. Cease, sweet nightingale, nor show By thy softly witching strain Trilling forth thy bliss and woe, How a man might feel love's pain, When a bird can feel his so. No: it was that wanton vine That in fond pursuit has sought The tall tree it doth entwine, Till the green weight it hath brought Makes the noble trunk decline. Green entwining boughs that hold What you love in your embrace, Make my fancy not too bold:-- Ah, if boughs thus interlace, How would clasping arms infold!-- And if not the vine, 'twill be That bright sunflower which we see Turning with its tearful eyes To its sun-god in the skies, Whatsoe'er his movements be. Flower thy watch no longer keep, Drooping leaflets fold in sleep, For the fond thought reappears, Ah, if leaves can shed such tears, What are those that eyes can weep! Cease then, lyrist of the grove, Leafy vine, unclasp thy arms, Fickle flower, no longer move, And declare, these poisoned charms That you use, what yields?
CHORUS [within]. Love, love.
JUSTINA. Love! it cannot be. Its chain Have I ever worn for man? No, the fond deceit is vain. All received a like disdain, Lelius, Florus, Cyprian. Lelius did I not despise? Florus did I not detest? Cyprian, the good and wise,
[She pauses at Cyprian's name and resumes for a time her unquiet manner.
Spurn with such a haughty breast, That he vanished from my eyes, As if frightened by their ire?-- Where he went I do not know. But save this, the faintest fire Love e'er lit, ne'er dared to glow In the depths of my desire. Yes, for since I said that he Should submit without appeal Never more my face to see, Ah, I know and what I feel!-- [She grows calmer. Pity it must surely be, That a man so widely known Should through love of me be lost, When he pays at such a cost For the preference he has shown. [She becomes troubled again. Were it pity though, 'tis true, The same pity I should give Lelius and to Florus too, Who in separate dungeons live, Ah! for daring me to woo. [She grows calmer. But my thoughts, ye mutinous crew, If my pity is enough It should not be clogged by you. Still your promptings press me so, That I feel in my despair, Where he is, if I could know, I to seek him now would go.
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