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Rose the white curling mist, and softly stole Up the dark wooded banks. And yet, methinks, The deeper shades of ev'ning come not after, As they are wont, but day is lengthen'd out Most strangely.

Thane. See'st thou those paly streams of shiv'ring light So widely spread along the northern sky? They to the twilight grey that brightness lend At which thou wonderest. Look up, I pray thee!

''Her. (turning and looking up.)'' What may it mean? it is a beauteous light.

Thane. In truth I know not. Many a time have I On hill and heath beheld the changeful face Of awful night; I've seen the moving stars Shoot rapidly athwart the sombre sky, Red fiery meteors in the welkin blaze, And sheeted lightnings gleam, but ne'er before Saw I a sight like this. It is belike Some sign portentous of our coming fate: Had we not better pause and con a while This daring scene, ere yet it be too late?

Her. No, by this brave man's sword! not for an hour Will I the glorious vengeful deed delay, Tho' heaven's high dome were flaming o'er my head And earth beneath me shook. If it be aught Portentous, it must come from higher powers; For demons ride but on the lower clouds,