A DRAMA OF EXILE. SCENE.-The outer side of the gate of Eden shut fast with cloud, from the depth of which revolves a sword of fire self-moved. ADAM and EVE are seen in the distance flying along the glare. LUCIFER, alone. REJOICE in the clefts of Gehenna, My exiled, my host! Earth has exiles as hopeless as when a Heaven's empire was lost. Through the seams of her shaken foundations, Smoke up in great joy! With the smoke of your fierce exultations Deform and destroy ! Smoke up with your lurid And darken the face revenges, Of the white heavens, and taunt them with changes From glory and grace. We, in falling, while destiny strangles, Pull down with us all. Let them look to the rest of their angels! Who's safe from a fall? He saves not. Where's Adam? Can pardon Requicken that sod? Unkinged is the King of the Garden, The image of God. Other exiles are cast out of Eden,— Come up! we have conquered by evil. Good reigns not alone. I prevail now, and, angel or devil, Inherit a throne. [In sudden apparition a watch of innumerable angels, rank above rank, slopes up from around the gates to the zenith. The angel GABRIEL descends. Luc. Hail Gabriel, the keeper of the gate! Now that the fruit is plucked, prince Gabriel, I hold that Eden is impregnable Under thy keeping. Gab. Angel of the sin, Such as thou standest,-pale in the drear light Which rounds the rebel's work with Maker's wrath,— Thou shalt be an Idea to all souls, A monumental melancholy gloom Seen down all ages, whence to mark despair Luc. Gab. Wherefore? Lucifer, Thy last step in this place trod sorrow up, Luc. Angels are in the world—wherefore not I? Exiles are in the world-wherefore not I? The cursed are in the world-wherefore not I? Luc. And where's the logic of 'depart ?" Our lady Eve had half been satisfied To obey her Maker, if I had not learnt To fix my postulate better. Dost thou dream Instead of earth? Why I can dream with thee Gab. I do not dream. This is not Heaven, even in a dream, nor earth, To which the myriad spheres thrilled audibly By Lucifer the serpent! this the sword Luc. By no means. It holds fast still-it cracks not under curse; (Ye like that word in Heaven!) I too have strength |