Enwraps the queenly pearl—these are faint types!
See, see, they look on me--I triumph now!
Tell me, Festus, Michal, but one thing I have told
All I shall e'er disclose to mortal. . . now,
Do you believe I shall accomplish this?
Par. Those words shall never fade from out my brain.
'Tis earnest of the end—shall never fade!
Are there not Festus, are there not dear Michal,
Two points in the adventure of the diver:
One—when a beggar he prepares to plunge?
One—when a prince he rises with his pearl?
Festus, I plunge!
Scene. Constantinople.— The House of the Greek."
Par. Over the waters in the vapourous west
The sun goes down as in a sphere of gold
Behind the arm of the city, which between,
Athwart the splendour, black and crooked runs
Like a Turk verse along a scimetar.
There lie, sullen memorial, and no more
Possess my aching sight. 'Tis done at last!
Strange—and the juggles of a sallow cheat
Have won me to this act : 'tis as yon cloud
Should voyage unwreck'd o'er many a mountain-top
And break upon a molehill. I have dared
Come to a pause at last, and scan for once
The heights already reach'd, without regard
To the extent above; fairly compute
All I have clearly gained; for once excluding
A brilliant future to supply and perfect
All half-gains, and conjectures, and crude hopes—
And all because a fortune-teller wills
His credulous seekers should inscribe thus much
Within this roll: and here, amid the scrawl'd
Uncouth recordings of the dupes of this
Old arch-genethliac, lie my life's results!
A few blurred characters suffice to note
A stranger wander'd long in many lands,
And reap'd the fruit he coveted in a few
Discoveries, as appended here and there,
The fragmentary produce of those toils,
In a dim heap, fact and surmise together
Confusedly mass'd, as when acquired; he was
Intent on gain to come too much to stay
And scrutinize whate'er was gain'd: the whole
Slipt in the blank space 'twixt an ideot's gibber
And a mad lover's ditty—there it lies.
And yet those blottings chronicle a life—
A whole life, and my life! nothing to do,
No problem for the fancy, but a life
Spent and decided, wasted past retrieve—
Or worthy beyond a peer. Stay, what does this
Remembrancer set down concerning "life?"
Time fleets, youth fades, life is an empty dream,' "It is the echo of time: he whose heart beat "First underneath a human heart, whose speech "Was copied from a human tongue, can never "Recall when he was living yet knew it not: "Nevertheless long seasons pass o'er him,
"Until one hour's experience shows what nothing
"It seem'd could clearer show, and ever after
"An alter'd brow, and eye, and gait, and speech
"Attest that now he knows this adage true
'Time fleets, youth fades, life is an empty dream.'"
Ay, my brave chronicler, and this same hour
As well as any now, let my time be!
Now! I can go no farther; well or ill—
'Tis done. I must desist and take my chance;
I cannot keep at this; 'tis no back shrinking—
For let but some assurance beam, some close
To this my toil appear, and I proceed
At any price, though closing it, I die ..
But here I pause: the old Greek's prophecy
Is like to turn out true—I shall not quit
His chamber 'till I know what I desire.
An end, a rest! strange how the notion, once
Encounter'd, gathers strength by moments. Rest!
Where has it kept so long? this throbbing brow
To cease—this beating heart to cease—all cruel
And gnawing thoughts to cease!to dare let down
My strung, so high-strung brain—to dare unnerve
My harass'd o'ertask'd frame—to know my place,
My portion, my reward, even my failure,
Assign'd, made sure for ever!—to lose myself
Among the common creatures of the world—
To draw some gain from having been a man—
Neither to hope nor fear—to live at length!
Even in failure, rest!—but rest, in truth,
And power, and recompense
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