Chapter 11

_Enter_ FIRST DESTINY.

The Moon is rising broad, and round, and bright; And here on snows, where never human foot[139] Of common mortal trod, we nightly tread, And leave no traces: o'er the savage sea, The glassy ocean of the mountain ice, We skim its rugged breakers, which put on The aspect of a tumbling tempest's foam, Frozen in a moment[140]--a dead Whirlpool's image: And this most steep fantastic pinnacle, The fretwork of some earthquake--where the clouds 10 Pause to repose themselves in passing by-- Is sacred to our revels, or our vigils; Here do I wait my sisters, on our way To the Hall of Arimanes--for to-night Is our great festival[141]--'tis strange they come not.

_A Voice without, singing._

The Captive Usurper, Hurled down from the throne, Lay buried in torpor, Forgotten and lone; I broke through his slumbers, 20 I shivered his chain, I leagued him with numbers-- He's Tyrant again! With the blood of a million he'll answer my care, With a Nation's destruction--his flight and despair![142]

_Second Voice, without._

The Ship sailed on, the Ship sailed fast, But I left not a sail, and I left not a mast; There is not a plank of the hull or the deck, And there is not a wretch to lament o'er his wreck; Save one, whom I held, as he swam, by the hair, 30 And he was a subject well worthy my care; A traitor on land, and a pirate at sea--[143] But I saved him to wreak further havoc for me!

FIRST DESTINY, _answering._

The City lies sleeping; The morn, to deplore it, May dawn on it weeping: Sullenly, slowly, The black plague flew o'er it-- Thousands lie lowly; Tens of thousands shall perish; 40 The living shall fly from The sick they should cherish; But nothing can vanquish The touch that they die from. Sorrow and anguish, And evil and dread, Envelope a nation; The blest are the dead, Who see not the sight Of their own desolation; 50 This work of a night-- This wreck of a realm--this deed of my doing-- For ages I've done, and shall still be renewing!

_Enter the_ SECOND _and_ THIRD DESTINIES.

_The Three._

Our hands contain the hearts of men, Our footsteps are their graves; We only give to take again The Spirits of our slaves!

_First Des_. Welcome!--Where's Nemesis?

_Second Des_. At some great work; But what I know not, for my hands were full.

_Third Des_. Behold she cometh.

_Enter_ NEMESIS.

_First Des_. Say, where hast thou been? 60 My Sisters and thyself are slow to-night.

_Nem_. I was detained repairing shattered thrones-- Marrying fools, restoring dynasties-- Avenging men upon their enemies, And making them repent their own revenge; Goading the wise to madness; from the dull Shaping out oracles to rule the world Afresh--for they were waxing out of date, And mortals dared to ponder for themselves, To weigh kings in the balance--and to speak 70 Of Freedom, the forbidden fruit.--Away! We have outstayed the hour--mount we our clouds! [_Exeunt._