See here--I stretch my hand out--hold it there.
How steady it is!
PHOEBE.
Steady enough to stab him!
CAMMA.
O hush! O peace! This violence ill becomes
The silence of our Temple. Gentleness,
Low words best chime with this solemnity.
_Enter a procession of Priestesses and Children bearing
garlands and golden goblets, and strewing flowers_.
_Enter_ SYNORIX (_as King, with gold laurel-wreath crown
and purple robes), followed by_ ANTONIUS, PUBLIUS,
_Noblemen, Guards, and the Populace_.
CAMMA.
Hail, King!
SYNORIX.
Hail, Queen!
The wheel of Fate has roll'd me to the top.
I would that happiness were gold, that I
Might cast my largess of it to the crowd!
I would that every man made feast to-day
Beneath the shadow of our pines and planes!
For all my truer life begins to-day.
The past is like a travell'd land now sunk
Below the horizon--like a barren shore
That grew salt weeds, but now all drown'd in love
And glittering at full tide--the bounteous bays
And havens filling with a blissful sea.
Nor speak I now too mightily, being King
And happy! happiest, Lady, in my power
To make you happy.
Pages:
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189