A stubble-field or a cane-brake, a marsh
Of bulrush whitening in the sun laugh now!
Fancy the crickets, each one in his house,
Looking out, wondering at the world—or best,
Yon painted snail with his gay shell of dew,
Travelling to see the glossy balls high up
Hung by the caterpillar, like gold lamps.

Michal. In truth we have lived carelessly and well. Paracelsus. And shall, my perfect pair!

trust me, born

each.

For the other; nay, your very hair, when mixed,
Is of one hue. For where save in this nook

Shall you two walk, when I am far away,

And wish me prosperous fortune? Stay that plant
Shall never wave its tangles lightly and softly,
As a queen's languid and imperial arm
Which scatters crowns among her lovers, but you
Shall be reminded to predict to me

Some great success! Ah see, the sun sinks broad
Behind Saint Saviour's: wholly gone, at last!

50

60

Festus. Now, Aureole, stay those wandering eyes awhile!

You are ours to-night, at least ; and while you spoke
Of Michal and her tears, I thought that none
Could willing leave what he so seemed to love :
But that last look destroys my dream that look
As if, where'er you gazed, there stood a star!
How far was Würzburg with its church and spire
And garden-walls and all things they contain,
From that look's far alighting?

Paracelsus.

I but spoke

And looked alike from simple joy to see
The beings I love best, shut in so well
From all rude chances like to be my lot,

70

That, when afar, my weary spirit,

To lose awhile its care in soothing thoughts
Of them, their pleasant features, looks and words, -
Needs never hesitate, nor apprehend

80

Encroaching trouble may have reached them too,
Nor have recourse to fancy's busy aid
And fashion even a wish in their behalf
Beyond what they possess already here;
But, unobstructed, may at once forget
Itself in them, assured how well they fare.
Beside, this Festus knows he holds me one
Whom quiet and its charms arrest in vain,
One scarce aware of all the joys I quit,
Too filled with airy hopes to make account
Of soft delights his own heart garners up:
Whereas behold how much our sense of all
That's beauteous proves alike! When Festus learns
That every common pleasure of the world
Affects me as himself; that I have just
As varied appetite for joy derived

90

From common things; a stake in life, in short,
Like his; a stake which rash pursuit of aims
That life affords not, would as soon destroy;
He may convince himself that, this in view,
I shall act well advised. And last, because,
Though heaven and earth and all things were at stake,
Sweet Michal must not weep, our parting eve.

Festus. True: and the eve is deepening, and we sit

As little anxious to begin our talk

As though to-morrow I could hint of it
As we paced arm-in-arm the cheerful town
At sun-dawn; or could whisper it by fits
(Trithemius busied with his class the while)

100

In that dim chamber where the noon-streaks peer
Half-frightened by the awful tomes around;
Or in some grassy lane unbosom all

From even-blush to midnight: but, to-morrow!
Have I full leave to tell my inmost mind?

We have been brothers, and henceforth the world
Will rise between us : - all my freest mind ?
'Tis the last night, dear Aureole !

Paracelsus.

Oh, say on!

Devise some test of love, some arduous feat

To be performed for you: say on! If night spent the while, the better !

Be

Recall how oft

I 10

My wondrous plans and dreams and hopes and fears never wearied you, oh no!

Have

as I

I 20

Recall, and never vividly as now,
Your true affection, born when Einsiedeln
And its green hills were all the world to us;
And still increasing to this night which ends
My further stay at Würzburg. Oh, one day
You shall be very proud! Say on, dear friends!
Festus. In truth? 'Tis for my proper peace,
indeed,

Rather than yours; for vain all projects seem

To stay your course: I said my latest hope
Is fading even now. A story tells

Of some far embassy despatched to win
The favor of an eastern king, and how
The gifts they offered proved but dazzling dust
Shed from the ore-beds native to his clime.
Just so, the value of repose and love,
I meant should tempt you, better far than I
You seem to comprehend; and yet desist
No whit from projects where repose nor love
Has part.

130

Paracelsus.

Once more?

Alas! As I foretold.

Festus. A solitary brier the bank puts forth To save our swan's nest floating out to sea. Dear Festus, hear me.

Paracelsus. you wish?

What is it

That I should lay aside my heart's pursuit,
Abandon the sole ends for which I live,
Reject God's great commission, and so die!
You bid me listen for your true love's sake:
Yet how has grown that love? Even in a long
And patient cherishing of the self-same spirit
It now would quell; as though a mother hoped
To stay the lusty manhood of the child
Once weak upon her knees. I was not born
Informed and fearless from the first, but shrank
From aught which marked me out apart from men:
I would have lived their life, and died their death,
Lost in their ranks, eluding destiny:

But you first guided me through doubt and fear,
Taught me to know mankind and know myself;
And now that I am strong and full of hope,
That, from my soul, I can reject all aims
Save those your earnest words made plain to me,
Now that I touch the brink of my design,
When I would have a triumph in their eyes,
A glad cheer in their voices
Michal weeps,
And Festus ponders gravely!
Festus.

When you deign

Hear it? I can say

Beforehand all this evening's conference!
'Tis this way, Michal, that he uses: first,
Or he declares, or I, the leading points

Of our best scheme of life, what is man's end

140

150

160

And what God's will; no two faiths e'er agreed
As his with mine. Next, each of us allows
Faith should be acted on as best we may ;
Accordingly, I venture to submit

My plan, in lack of better, for pursuing
The path which God's will seems to authorize.
Well, he discerns much good in it, avows
This motive worthy, that hope plausible,
A danger here to be avoided, there
An oversight to be repaired in fine
Our two minds go together

:

all the good Approved by him, I gladly recognize,

All he counts bad, I thankfully discard,

And naught forbids my looking up at last
For some stray comfort in his cautious brow.

When, lo! I learn that, spite of all, there lurks
Some innate and inexplicable germ

Of failure in my scheme; so that at last
It all amounts to this the sovereign proof
That we devote ourselves to God, is seen
In living just as though no God there were;
A life which, prompted by the sad and blind
Folly of man, Festus abhors the most;
But which these tenets sanctify at once,
Though to less subtle wits it seems the same,
Consider it how they may.

Michal.

Is it so, Festus? He speaks so calmly and kindly: is it so ?

170

180

190

Paracelsus. Reject those glorious visions of God's love And man's design; laugh loud that God should send Vast longings to direct us; say how soon

Power satiates these, or lust, or guld; I know

The world's cry well, and how to answer it.

But this ambiguous warfare

199