INDIAN. And the plant died not in the frost? LADY. It grew; And went out of the lattice which I left And down the slope of moss and through the tufts Of wild-flower roots, and stumps of trees o'ergrown With simple lichens, and old hoary stones, 200 And there its fruit lay like a sleeping lizard This shape of autumn couched in their recess, One half lay floating on the fountain wave, Among the snowy water-lily buds. Its shape was such as summer melody 210 Of the south wind in spicy vales might give To some light cloud bound from the golden dawn To fairy isles of evening, and it seemed In hue and form that it had been a mirror Which, from the bright vibrations of the pool, Were thrown upon the rafters and the roof stems Of the dark sylvan temple, and reflexions O friend, sleep was a veil uplift from heavenAs if heaven dawned upon the world of dreamWhen darkness rose on the extinguished day Out of the eastern wilderness. INDIAN. I too Have found a moment's paradise in sleep 242 Gentlemen of the Inns of Court, Citizens, Pursuivants, Marshalsmen, Law Students, Judges, Clerk. SCENE I. The Mask of the Inns of Court. A PURSUIVANT. PLACE, for the Marshal of the Mask! 1 References to the projected play on the subject of Charles I. are to be found in 66 Shelley's letters, from February 1821 to April 1822. Mrs. Shelley says he proceeded slowly with it, and at last threw it aside for The Triumph of Life. In my opinion," said Alfieri, in dedicating his Agis to Charles, one can in no way make a tragedy of your tragical death, the cause of it not being sublime." Perhaps that was what Shelley felt. See, however, page lviii of vol, i, -ED, FIRST CITIZEN. What thinkest thou of this quaint mask which turns, Like morning from the shadow of the night, The night to day, and London to a place Of peace and joy? SECOND CITIZEN. And Hell to Heaven. Eight years are gone, And they seem hours, since in this populous street I trod on grass made green by summer's rain, A YOUTH. Yet, father, 'tis a happy sight to see, By God or man ;-'tis like the bright procession From which men wake as from a paradise, And draw new strength to tread the thorns of life. 20 If God be good, wherefore should this be evil? And open-eyed Conspiracy lie sleeping As on Hell's threshold; and all gentle thoughts SECOND CITIZEN. 30 How young art thou in this old age of time! How green in this grey world! Canst thou discern The signs of seasons, yet perceive no hint Art thou a puppet moved by [enginery]? done, My travel's Before the whirlwind wakes I shall have found Nor leave the broad and plain and beaten road, ... Rose like the equinoctial sun, nous veil Darting his altered influence he has gained This height of noon-from which he must decline 50 Amid the darkness of conflicting storms, whispered aphorisms From Machiavel and Bacon: and, if Judas |