The earth would be no longer earth to me,
The life out of all life was gone from me!
There are blind ways provided, the foredone
Heart-weary player in this pageant-world
Drops out by, letting the main masque defile
By the conspicuous portal :--I am through—
Just through!-
Guen.
Don't leave him, Austin! death is close.
Tresh. Already Mildred's face is peacefuller!
I see you, Austin-feel you-here's my hand,
Put yours in it—You, Guendolen, yours too!
You're Lord and Lady now-You're Treshams-Name
And fame are yours-You hold our 'Scutcheon up.
Austin, no Blot on it! You see how blood
Must wash one blot away: the first blot came
And the first blood came. To the vain world's eye
All's gules again-no care to the vain world,
From whence the red was drawn!
Tresh. I said that-yet it did come. Vengeance is God's not man's.
Guen. [letting fall the pulseless arm.] Ah, Thorold, we can
The Grand-Master's Prefect. Initiated Druses-ANAEL.
PLACE, An Islet of the Southern Sporades, colonised by Druses of Lebanon, and garrisoned by the Knights-Hospitallers of Rhodes.
SCENE-A Hall in the Prefect's Palace.
Enter stealthily KARSHOOK, RAGHIB, AYOOB, and other initiated Druses, each as he enters casting off a robe that conceals his distinctive black vest and white turban; then, as giving a loose to exultation,
Kar. The moon is carried off in purple fire : Day breaks at last! Break glory, with the day, On Djabal's dread incarnate mystery
Now ready to resume its pristine shape
Of Hakeem, as the Khalif vanished erst
In what seemed death to uninstructed eyes,
On red Mokattam's verge-our Founder's flesh,
As he resumes our Founder's function!
Sweep to the Christian Prefect that enslaved
So long us sad Druse exiles o'er the sea!
Ay. Most joy be thine, O Mother-mount!
Returns to thee, no outcasts as we left,
But thus-but thus! Behind, our Prefect's corse;
Before, a presence like the morning—thine,
Absolute Djabal late,-God Hakeem now
That day breaks!
Kar.
Off, then, with disguise at last!
As from our forms this hateful garb we strip,
Lose every tongue its glozing accent too,
Discard each limb the ignoble gesture! Cry,
'Tis the Druse Nation, warders on our mount
Of the world's secret, since the birth of time,
-No kindred slips, no offsets from thy stock,
No spawn of Christians are we, Prefect, we
Who rise
Spoil of the spoiler! Brave!
Who seize, a first-fruits, ha
[They begin to tear down and to dispute for the decorations of the Hall.
Kar.
Just this fringe!
Take anything beside! Lo, spire on spire,
Curl serpentwise wreathed columns to the top
Of the roof, and hide themselves mysteriously
Among the twinkling lights and darks that haunt
Yon cornice! Where the huge veil, they suspend
Before the Prefect's Chamber of delight,
Floats wide, then falls again (as if its slave,
The scented air, took heart now, and anon
Lost heart, to buoy its breadths of gorgeousness
Above the gloom they droop in)-all the porch
Is jewelled o'er with frost-work charactery;
And see yon eight-point cross of white flame, winking
Hoar-silvery like some fresh-broke marble-stone :
Raze out the Rhodian's Cross there, so thou leav'st me
This single fringe!
Ha! wouldst thou, dog-fox? Help
-Three handbreadths of gold fringe, my son was set
To twist, the night he died!
And I could witness my one daughter borne,
A week since, to the Prefect's couch, yet fold
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