Page:Blackwood's Magazine volume 046.djvu/174

166 Obey'd your earnest bidding.—Fays and witches Might round its blaze their midnight revelry Right fitly keep.
 * Ter.Aye; thou lov'st wilds and darkness,

And fire and storms, and things unsooth and strange: This suits thee well. Methinks, in gazing on it, Thy face a witch-like eagerness assumes.
 * Viol. I'll be a goblin then, and round it dance.

Did not Aurora say we thus should hold This nightly vigil. Yea, such were her words.
 * Aur. They were light bubbles of some mantling thought,

That now is flat and spiritless; and yet, If thou art so inclined, ask not my leave, Dance if thou wilt.
 * Viol.Nay, not alone, sweet sooth!

Witches themselves, some fiend-like partners find.
 * Ter. And so may'st thou. Look yonder; near the flame

A crested figure stands. That is not Stephen.
 * Aur. (eagerly.) A crested figure! Where?

O call to it! [ comes forward.
 * Ter. 'Tis Bastiani.
 * Aur.Aye, 'tis Bastiani:

'Tis he, or any one; 'tis ever thus; So is my fancy mock'd.
 * Bast. If I offend you, madam, 'tis unwillingly.

Stephen has for a while gone to the beach To help some fishermen, who, as I Against the tide would force their boat to land. He'll soon return; meantime, I did entreat him To let me watch his Beacon. Pardon me; I had not else intruded; though full oft I've clamber'd o'er these cliffs, even at this hour, To see the ocean from its sabled breast The flickering gleam of these bright flames return.
 * Aur. Make no excuse, I pray thee. I am told

By good Terentia thou dost wish me well, Though Ulrick long has been thy friend. I know A wanderer on the seas in early youth Thou wast, and still canst feel for all storm-toss'd On that rude element.
 * Bast. 'Tis true, fair Lady: I have been, ere now,

Where such a warning light, sent from the shore, Had saved some precious lives; which makes the task I now fulfil more grateful.
 * Aur. How many leagues from shore may such a light

By the benighted mariner be seen?
 * Bast. Some six or so: he will descry it faintly,

Like a small star, or hermit's taper, peering From some caved rock that brows the dreary waste; Or like the lamp of some lone lazar-house, Which through the silent night the traveller spies Upon his doubtful way. [As they begin to occupy themselves with the fire, the sound of distant voices, singing in harmony, is heard under the stage as if ascending the cliff.
 * Aur. What may it be?
 * Viol.The songs of paradise,

But that our savage rocks and gloomy night So ill agree with peaceful soothing bliss.
 * Ter. No blessed spirits in these evil days

Hymn, through the stilly darkness, strains of grace.
 * Aur. Nay, list; it comes again.

[Voices heard nearer.
 * Ter. The mingled sound comes nearer, and betrays

Voices of mortal men.
 * Viol.In such sweet harmony!

I never heard the like.
 * Aur. They must be good and holy who can utter

Such heavenly sounds.
 * Bast.I ve surely heard before

This solemn chorus chanted by the knights, The holy brothers of Jerusalem. It is a carol sung by them full oft, When saved from peril dire of flood or field.
 * Aur. The Knights of blest St John from Palestine!

Alas! why feel I thus? knowing too well They cannot bring the tidings I would hear. [Chorus rises again very near.
 * Viol. List, list! they've gain'd the summit of the cliff:

They are at hand; their voices are distinct; Yea, even the words they sing.