CYPRIAN I do not recognize among the Gods manner Can supreme goodness be consistent with The passions of humanity? DEMON The wisdom Of the old world masked with the names of Gods The attributes of Nature and of Man; CYPRIAN This reply will not satisfy me, for How then does one will one thing, one another? And that you may not say that I allege Of their oracular statues; from two shrines But supreme goodness fails among the Without their union. DEMON I deny your major. These responses are means towards some end Unfathomed by our intellectual beam. They are the work of providence, and more The battle's loss may profit those who lose Than victory advantage those who win. CYPRIAN That I admit; and yet that God should not (Falsehood is incompatible with deity) Assure the victory; it would be enough Though you may imagine That I know little of the laws of duel, Which vanity and valor instituted, You are in error. By my birth I am Held no less than yourselves to know the limits Of honor and of infamy, nor has study Quenched the free spirit which first ordered them; And thus to me, as one well experienced honor To leave you. LELIO Under this condition then I will relate the cause, and you will cede And must confess the impossibility Of compromise; for the same lady is Beloved by Floro and myself. FLORO It seems Much to me that the light of day should look Upon that idol of my heart — but he — Leave us to fight, according to thy word. CYPRIAN Permit one question further: is the lady Impossible to hope or not? The day affright, As from the horizon round In mighty torrents the electric fountains; The fragments of a single ruin choke For, on flakes of surge, like feathers light, Upon the gloomy blast, Tell of the footsteps of the storm; And it must fly the pity of the port, The terror of the thrilling cry Of coming death, who hovers now That they who die not may be dying still. Of sudden ruin, for it drives so fast I almost feel the shockIt stumbles on a jagged rock, — Sparkles of blood on the white foam are cast. [A Tempest. Wipe out the blot of the discomfiture Sustained upon the mountain, and assail With a new war the soul of Cyprian, Forging the instruments of his destruction Even from his love and from his wisdom. O DEMON Because my happiness is lost. Yet I lament what has long ceased to be CYPRIAN Now, since the fury Of this earthquaking hurricane is still, And the crystalline heaven has reassumed Its windless calm so quickly that it seems As if its heavy wrath had been awakened Only to overwhelm that vessel, — speak, Who art thou, and whence comest thou? DEMON Far more My coming hither cost than thou hast seen Or I can tell. Among my misadventures This shipwreck is the least. Wilt thou hear? CYPRIAN DEMON Speak. Since thou desirest, I will then unveil In lineage so supreme, and with a genius A king-whom I may call the King of kings, Because all others tremble in their pride Of living light-call them the stars of Named me his counsellor. But the high praise Stung me with pride and envy, and I rose In mighty competition to ascend His seat, and place my foot triumphantly Upon his subject thrones. Chastised, I know The depth to which ambition falls; too mad Was the attempt, and yet more mad were now |