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Daemon.
Justina.

Too dear.

Come, where a pleasure waits thee.

It were bought

Daemon. "Twill soothe thy heart to softest peace.
Justina. "Tis dread captivity.

Daemon.

"Tis joy, 'tis glory. Justina. "Tis shame, 'tis torment, 'tis despair. Daemon.

Canst thou defend thyself from that or me,
If my power drags thee onward?

Justina.

Consists in God.

My defence

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But how

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[He vainly endeavours to force her, and at last releases her. Daemon. Woman, thou hast subdued me, Only by not owning thyself subdued. But since thou thus findest defence in God, I will assume a feigned form, and thus Make thee a victim of my baffled rage. For I will mask a spirit in thy form Who will betray thy name to infamy,

And doubly shall I triumph in thy loss,

First by dishonouring thee, and then by turning
False pleasure to true ignominy.

Justina.

I

Appeal to Heaven against thee; so that Heaven
May scatter thy delusions, and the blot
Upon my fame vanish in idle thought,
Even as flame dies in the envious air,

And as the floweret wanes at morning frost;

And thou shouldst never-But, alas! to whom

Do I still speak?-Did not a man but now
Stand here before me?-No, I am alone,
And yet I saw him. Is he gone so quickly?
Or can the heated mind engender shapes
From its own fear? Some terrible and strange
Peril is near. Lisander! father! lord!
Livia!-

Enter LISANDER and LIVIA.

Lisander. Oh, my daughter! What?

Livia.

Justina.

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[Exit.

What!

Saw you

A man go forth from my apartment now?—
I scarce contain myself!

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Which led to this apartment were all locked.

Livia (aside). I daresay it was Moscon whom she saw,

For he was locked up in my room.

It must

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Lisander.
Have been some image of thy fantasy.
Such melancholy as thou feedest is
Skilful in forming such in the vain air
Out of the motes and atoms of the day.
Livia. My master's in the right.

Oh, would it were

Justina.
Delusion; but I fear some greater ill.
I feel as if out of my bleeding bosom
My heart was torn in fragments; ay,
Some mortal spell is wrought against my frame;
So potent was the charm that, had not God
Shielded my humble innocence from wrong,

I should have sought my sorrow and my shame
With willing steps.-Livia, quick, bring my cloak,
For I must seek refuge from these extremes

Even in the temple of the highest God
Where secretly the faithful worship.

Livia.

Here.

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Justina (putting on her cloak). In this, as in a shroud of snow,

may I

Quench the consuming fire in which I burn,

Wasting away!

Lisander.

And I will go with thee.

Livia. When I once see them safe out of the house

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Let us go.

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Justina. Thine is the cause, great God! turn for my sake, And for Thine own, mercifully to me!

STANZAS FROM CALDERON'S CISMA DE
INGLATERRA

Translated by Medwin and corrected by Shelley.
[Published by Medwin, Life of Shelley, 1847, with Shelley's
corrections in italics.]

I

HAST thou not seen, officious with delight,

Move through the illumined air about the flower
The Bee, that fears to drink its purple light,
Lest danger lurk within that Rose's bower?
Hast thou not marked the moth's enamoured flight
About the Taper's flame at evening hour,

Till kindle in that monumental fire

His sunflower wings their own funereal pyre?
179 Where Rossetti; Which 1824.

II

My heart, its wishes trembling to unfold,

Thus round the Rose and Taper hovering came,
And Passion's slave, Distrust, in ashes cold,
Smothered awhile, but could not quench the flame,-
Till Love, that grows by disappointment bold,
And Opportunity, had conquered Shame;
And like the Bee and Moth, in act to close,
I burned my wings, and settled on the Rose.

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SCENES FROM THE FAUST OF GOETHE [Published in part (Scene II) in The Liberal, No. 1, 1822; in full, by Mrs. Shelley, Posthumous Poems, 1824.]

SCENE I-PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. The LORD and the Host of HEAVEN.

Enter three ARCHANGELS.

Raphael.

THE sun makes music as of old
Amid the rival spheres of Heaven,
On its predestined circle rolled

With thunder speed: the Angels even
Draw strength from gazing on its glance,
Though none its meaning fathom may :-
The world's unwithered countenance

Is bright as at Creation's day.

Gabriel.

And swift and swift, with rapid lightness,
The adorned Earth spins silently,
Alternating Elysian brightness

With deep and dreadful night; the sea
Foams in broad billows from the deep

Up to the rocks, and rocks and Ocean,
Onward, with spheres which never sleep,
Are hurried in eternal motion.

Michael.

And tempests in contention roar

From land to sea, from sea to land;

And, raging, weave a chain of power,

Which girds the earth, as with a band.

A flashing desolation there,

Flames before the thunder's way;

But Thy servants, Lord, revere

The gentle changes of Thy day.

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Chorus of the Three.

The Angels draw strength from Thy glance,
Though no one comprehend Thee may;-
Thy world's unwithered countenance

Is bright as on Creation's day'.

Enter MEPHISTOPHELES.

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Mephistopheles As thou, O Lord, once more art kind enough

To interest Thyself in our affairs,

And ask, 'How goes it with you there below?'

And as indulgently at other times

Thou tookest not my visits in ill part,

Thou seest me here once more among Thy household.
Though I should scandalize this company,

You will excuse me if I do not talk

In the high style which they think fashionable;

My pathos certainly would make You laugh too,

Had You not long since given over laughing.

38 certainly would edd. 1839; would certainly 1824.

1 Raphael. The sun sounds, according to ancient custom, In the song of emulation of his brother-spheres.

And its fore-written circle

Fulfils with a step of thunder.

Its countenance gives the Angels strength
Though no one can fathom it.

The incredible high works

Are excellent as at the first day.

Gabriel. And swift, and inconceivably swift
The adornment of earth winds itself round,
And exchanges Paradise clearness

With deep dreadful night.

The sea foams in broad waves

From its deep bottom, up to the rocks,
And rocks and sea are torn on together
In the eternal swift course of the spheres.
Michael. And storms roar in emulation
From sea to land, from land to sea,
And make, raging, a chain
Of deepest operation round about.
There flames a flashing destruction
Before the path of the thunderbolt.
But Thy servants, Lord, revere

The gentle alternations of Thy day.

Chorus. Thy countenance gives the Angels strength,
Though none can comprehend Thee:

And all Thy lofty works

Are excellent as at the first day.

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Such is a literal translation of this astonishing chorus; it is impossible to represent in another language the melody of the versification; even the volatile strength and delicacy of the ideas escape in the crucible of translation, and the reader is surprised to find a caput mortuum.—— [SHELLEY'S NOTE.]

Nothing know I to say of suns and worlds;
I observe only how men plague themselves;
The little god o' the world keeps the same stamp,
As wonderful as on creation's day :-

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A little better would he live, hadst Thou
Not given him a glimpse of Heaven's light
Which he calls reason, and employs it only
To live more beastlily than any beast.
With reverence to Your Lordship be it spoken,
He's like one of those long-legged grasshoppers,
Who flits and jumps about, and sings for ever
The same old song i' the grass. There let him lie,
Burying his nose in every heap of dung.

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The Lord. Have you no more to say? Do you come here Always to scold, and cavil, and complain?

Seems nothing ever right to you on earth?

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Mephistopheles. No, Lord! I find all there, as ever, bad at best.

Even I am sorry for man's days of sorrow;
I could myself almost give up the pleasure
Of plaguing the poor things.
The Lord.

Mephistopheles. The Doctor?
The Lord.

Mephistopheles.

Knowest thou Faust?

Ay; My servant Faust.

In truth 60

He serves You in a fashion quite his own;
And the fool's meat and drink are not of earth.
His aspirations bear him on so far

That he is half aware of his own folly,

And from the earth the highest joy it bears,

For he demands from Heaven its fairest star,

Yet all things far, and all things near, are vain

To calm the deep emotions of his breast.

The Lord. Though he now serves Me in a cloud of error,

I will soon lead him forth to the clear day.

When trees look green, full well the gardener knows
That fruits and blooms will deck the coming year.

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Mephistopheles. What will You bet ?-now I am sure of win

ning

Only, observe You give me full permission
To lead him softly on my path.

The Lord.

As long As he shall live upon the earth, so long Is nothing unto thee forbidden-Man Must err till he has ceased to struggle. Mephistopheles.

And that is all I ask; for willingly

Thanks.

I never make acquaintance with the dead.
The full fresh cheeks of youth are food for me,
And if a corpse knocks, I am not at home.
47 beastlily 1824; beastily edd. 1839.

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