{"id":187,"date":"2013-07-13T01:26:28","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:26:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=187"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:26:28","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:26:28","slug":"61-juvenilia-the-witch-of-ilni-vol-07-collected-plays-part-ii-volume-07","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/01-sabcl\/07-collected-plays-part-ii-volume-07\/61-juvenilia-the-witch-of-ilni-vol-07-collected-plays-part-ii-volume-07","title":{"rendered":"-61_Juvenilia The Witch of Ilni.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n
\n

\nJUVENILIA<\/font><\/b> <\/p>\n

\nTHE WITCH OF ILNI<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\nA Dream of the Woodlands<\/font><\/i>  <\/p>\n

\n
\nCHARACTERS<\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

<\/b><\/p>\n

\nC<\/font>ORILLO <\/font><\/p>\n

: prince of Ilm
\nV<\/font>ALENTINE <\/font><\/p>\n

: a courtier<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nI<\/font>MELANDER <\/font><\/p>\n

: a sylvan poet
\nF<\/font>ORESTERS <\/font><\/p>\n

: courtiers
\nA<\/font>LACIEL <\/font><\/p>\n

: the witch of Ilni
\nG<\/font>UENDOLEN <\/font><\/p>\n

: her sister<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nGIRLS OF THE <\/font>FOREST<\/font>
\nPERSONAE <\/font>MUTAE <\/font><\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1057<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\n
\nThe Witch of Ilni<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nThe Woodlands of Ilni.
\nGirls and youths dancing.<\/i><\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nSong<\/i><\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nUnder the darkling tree
\nWho danceth with thee,<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nSister, say ?<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nHis hair is the sweet sunlight
\nHis eyes a starry night<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nIn May.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nUnder the leaf-wrought screen
\nWho crowns thee his queen<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nKissing thee ?<\/font><\/p>\n

\nHis lips are a ruby bright,
\nHis cheek the May-bloom’s light<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nOn the tree.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nUnder the grass-green bough
\nWhom pillowest thou<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nOn thy breast?<\/font><\/p>\n

\nHis voice is a swallow’s flight,
\nHis limbs are jonquils white<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nDewy drest.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tI<\/font>AMBLICHUS
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nUnwind the linked rapture of the dance!
\nFor in the purple verge and slope of mom
\nFast-flowering blooms, fire-robed and honey-haired,
\nIn stainless wastes the daffodil of heaven.
\nHere till the golden-handed sun upbuilds
\nThe morning’s cenotaph blue-domed and vast,
\nOn daisy-dotted bank where sunlight nods<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1059<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\nWe’ll spin a curious weft of eerie tales.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>YRTIL <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nBe it so. But what occupation stays
\nOur deftest in the jewelry of rhymes,
\nOur liberal dispenser of sweet words,
\nOur laureate with the throstle in his throat ?
\nSleeps he so long ? who saw Melander last,
\nMelander ashbud-browed with April hair ?<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tH<\/font>ERMENGILD
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nBefore the russet-hooded morn gave birth
\nIn Day’s embraces to the fire-eyed sun
\nI spied him nigh a mossy mantled cave
\nWhich rosy trailers draped, and at his side
\nThe silver-seeming witch Alaciel.<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>YRTIL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nPray God, the black-haired witch may do no harm!
\nShe is most potent and her science plucks
\nThe ruby nightshade, Hecate’s deadly plum,
\nSoul-killing meadow-sweet, the hemlock starred
\nAnd berries brown, crushed in the vats of death,
\nHer mother’s hell-brewed legacy of arts.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ARCION<\/font><\/p>\n

\nWere it not wisely done to call him hither ?<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tI<\/font>AMBLICUS <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Tis wisely urged, good Marcion, make good haste
\nAnd drench thy words in Hybla’s golden milk
\nTo lure him thence. But you with dance and song
\nBeguile the laggard moments into joy.<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nExit Marcion.<\/i><\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1060<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\nA glade in the woodlands.<\/i><\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nWhy wilt thou go ? Noon has not budded, sweet.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nFresh-fallen dew stars yet the silvered grass,<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nThe leaves are lyrical with lisp of birds<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nAnd piping voices flutter thro’ the grove.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nRepose thyself where blue-eyed violet<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nIs married to that bugle of pale gold<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nWe call the cowslip, and I’ll chain thee here<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nWith flowery bands of rosebud-linked tales<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nOr murmur Orphic falls to draw thy soul<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nUpon the smoother wings of measured song.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nNoon has not budded, sweet. Why wilt thou go ? .<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nThe sylvan youths expect my lyric touch<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nTo guild their leisure: nor am I so bold<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nTo linger by thy snowy side too long<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nWhom men call perilous. Oh thou art fair!<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nDawn reddens in thy vermil-tinted cheeks<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nAnd on thy tresses pansy-purple night<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nHangs balsam-drenched with dewdrops for her stars.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nThou art a flower with candid petals wide,<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nMoon-flushed, most innocent-seeming to the eye;<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nBut in thy cup, they say, lurks venomed wine
\nWhich whoso sucks, pale Hades on him lays
\nEnsnaring arms to drag from the sweet sun.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nWhom will not Envy’s livid tooth assail ?
\n‘Tis true my wisdom dwarfs their ignorance;<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nThat is most true: for in my fledgeling days
\nWhen callow childhood loved the rushy nest,
\nMy mother drew my steps thro’ fretted walks;<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nRose-rubied gardens, acorn-pelted glades.
\nGreen seas of pasture, rural sweeps of bloom,<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1061<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\nAnd taught the florid sensuous dialect<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nOf simple plants. This way I learned to love<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nThe shining sisterhood of rhythmic names.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nRoses and lilies, honey-hiding thyme<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPied gilliflowers, painted wind-blossoms,<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nGold crocus, milky bell, sweet marjoram<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nFire-coloured furze and wayside honey-suckle.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nNor these alone, but all the helpful plants<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nGave me the liquid essence of their souls<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPotent to help or hurt, to cure or kill.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nIndeed the milky juice of pungent roots<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nI poured you in that curious walnut cup<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nWith moderation just, were in excess<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nMore deadly than the hemlock’s dooming wine.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tMelander<\/font>
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nIt fused new blood into my pulsing veins
\nRaising me twice the stature of a soul.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\n‘Tis margarite, the rare and pungent root,
\nThat brewed this foamy vintage in his wand.
\nFor twixt the bulb and pithy texture wrapt
\nYou find a pod nut-form with misty skin,
\nIn size no bigger than the early grape
\nBut full and sweet with honey-tempered wine.
\nSuch are my potions, philtres, poisons, drugs,
\nDistempered brews, and all the juggling arts
\nYour ignorance rebukes my wisdom with.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nFrom such sweet lips when poppied utterance falls,
\nThe carping spirit of disdain must sleep;<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nFor subtler logic drops in simple words
\nFrom woman’s tongue, than phraseful orator
\nOr fine scholastic wit may offer up
\nOn his.<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1062<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nSweet youth, why should I net you with deceit?<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nAh yet, in truth you are too beautiful!<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nCome, you are skilled in phrases, are you not ?<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nYou dice with women’s hearts \u2014 they tell me ’tis<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nA pastime much in vogue with idle youths.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n(The philtre works: his eyelids brim with dew.)<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nYou throw cogged dice with women for their souls,<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nYou barter with them and deny the price,<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nIs it not so ? (O rare, fine margarite!)<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nOh you are deft at such deceits: you make<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nYour beauty lime to cozen linnets with<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nAnd bid them sing, if they’d have sustenance.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nOh you will not deceive me, think it not:<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nYou are just such a fowler to my guess.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nDear linnet, did I lime you in my nets,
\nOne fine, sweet Hamadryad note would lift
\nThe tangle from your wild-rose-petal wings.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nAh but when lurking faces flower the bush,
\nWild birds mock expectation with wild wings.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nNay, dear, you shall not go: I have you fast.
\nCome, where’s your ransom? the sweet single note
\nI bargained for, ere you may climb the winds ?
\nPrune not your fluttering wings: I have you fast.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nI pray you, make not earnest of my jest.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nYou are too quick: you shall not have a stiver,<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nNo, not a coin to bless repentance with.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER<\/font><\/p>\n

\nThen I will pay myself, sweet: from that warm<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1064<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\nAnd flowering bed of kisses, I will pluck
\nFresh with the dews of youth one red sweet rose.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n(Kisses her)<\/i><\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nOh I have sucked out poison from your lips!
\nPhysicians say that certain maladies
\nAre by their generating causes killed.
\nSweet poison, one more drop to cure the last.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n(Kisses her)<\/i><\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nYou shall pluck no more roses from my tree.
\nUnclasp me now or you will anger me.<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nDear, be not angry. I did but accept
\nThe written challenge peeping thro’ the lids
\nOf those delicious eyes: O shy soft eyes,
\nHiding with jetty fringes such a world
\nOf swimming beauty, virgin-sweet desire
\nYou shine like stars upon the rim of night,
\nLike dewdrops thro’ green leaves, mute orators
\nInstinct with dropping eloquence to sway
\nThe burning heart of boyhood to your will.
\nIf I look on you long, you will seduce
\nMy acts from virtue; which to anticipate
\nI’ll kill you both with kisses, thus, and thus.
\nSweet, do not blush. I claim what is my own,
\nAnd with my lips I seal your whole self mine
\nFrom dear, dark head to dainty wild-rose feet.
\nOr, if you will, in sanguine tumult show
\nThe throbbing conscience of a lover’s touch,
\nThat I may watch a sea of springing rose
\nDiffuse its gorgeous triumph in your cheeks.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nOh you have golden pieces on your tongue
\nTo buy your pleasure: yet this single once<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1064<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\nI’ll be your fool. Come, throw me clinking coin,
\nThe thin flute-music of your flatteries.
\nYou shall have favours if you pay for them.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nHis lips should dribble honey, who’d make out
\nThe style and inventory of your graces.
\nHis voice should be the fifing of mild winds
\nTo happy song of bees in rose-red June,
\nHis every word a crimson-tasselled rose,
\nHis lightest phrase a strip of cedar wood,
\nEach clause a nutmeg-peppered jug of cream;<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nThe very stops should argue aloes fetched
\nBy spiced winds upon the rocking brine.
\nWhat, have I earned my wage ? I am athirst
\nWith praising you. Give me your lips to drink.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nYou trifle, sweet. Yours is no mint of coin
\nBut scribbled paper-specie large as wind
\nWhich I’ll not take. Here comes your paedagogue
\nTo school you into more sobriety.<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nAlaciel retires. Enter Marcion.<\/i><\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ARCION
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nWell met, Melander. Long thro’ mossy paths
\nHave I with patient footing peered thee out,
\nThro’ shadow-sundered slopes of racing light.
\nIn ferny pales with blots of colour pricked
\nAnd by the rushy marge of spuming streams
\nTill lucky hazard made the Venus throw.
\nWhy art thou here ? On leafy sheltered sward
\nWhere daubs of sunlight intersperse the shade,
\nThe rubious posies thrill to mazy feet
\nLike stars danced over by an angel’s tread
\nAnd strive with glimmering corollaries
\nTo make a twinkling heaven of the green.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1065<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\nMoist blow the breezes with the myrrhy tears
\nOf pining night, and ruffle every blade
\nThat keeps his pearls from clutch of dewy thieves
\nUntil their indignation murmur past
\nFrom airy flute, from seraph-stringed harp
\nA daedal rain of music drop on drop
\nWells past to rule the waft of dove-like feet.
\nThe clustered edges of close heaped thyme,
\nA murmurous haven souled by merchant bees,
\nAre crumbling into fragrance and young flowers
\nMake fat by their decay the greedy earth,
\nWhile golden youths and silver feet of girls
\nPass fluttering as with glimpse of gorgeous hues
\nA fleet of moths on emigrating winds.
\nThere you shall see upon the pearled grass
\nThe forest antelope, brown Hermengild,
\nlamblichus the honey-hearted boy,
\nRose-cheeked lamblichus with roses wreathed,
\nAnd Myrtil honey-haired, our woodland moon,
\nMyrtil the white, a silver loveliness,
\nBut tipped with gold. Thou only lingerest:<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nOnly thy voice, the pilot of our moods,<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nOnly thy thrush-lips welling facile rhymes<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nMar the sweet harmonies of holiday<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nWith one chord missing from the clamorous harp.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nI thank you, Marcion, for your careful pain
\nBut cannot guerdon you with more than thanks.
\nI am not well: the fumes of midnight thought
\nUnfit me for a holiday attire.<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ARCION
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nFie, fie, Melander: when have you before
\nDenied the riches of your tongue to eke
\nOur poorness with ? The forest waits for you
\nDew-drenched with tears because you will not come.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1066<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nWell, I will go with you, but not for long.
\nI’ll join you where deep-cushioned in soft grass
\nThe stream turns inward like a scimitar.
\nGo on before, I pray you. I will come.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nExit Mar don.<\/i><\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nThere, there, I said so! you are docile,’
\nsir.
\nIndeed I did not spy the leading-strings,
\nBut they must be there. ‘Twas your paedagogue,
\nWas it not, come to fetch the truant back ?<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nDear, be not vexed with me. I will return
\nEre noon has dotted with her golden ball
\nThe eminence of heaven. It seems not well,
\nWhen judgment has decreed the award of merit,
\nTo disappoint Persuasion of her prize:<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nIn sweetly cultured minds civility
\nBreathes music to the touch of wooing words.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nOh words and words enough! but what’s the gist,
\nThe run, the purport? Tush, a chattering pie,
\nA pie that steals and chatters, would not deign
\nTo jeer this flaunting daw. What, did he deem
\nHis gaudy colony of phrases roofed
\nThe meaning from my eyes ? The prosing fool
\nFibs very vilely: why, he has not conned
\nThe rudiments and letters of his craft.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nYou do miscall sincerest courtesy,<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nSweet courtesy that solders our conditions<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nInto the builded structure of a state.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1067<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nYes, till the winds unbuild it for worse ruin.
\nBut go your way. I’ll know you as a man
\nThat honeys leisure with a lovely face
\nAnd coins sweet perjuries to make the hearts
\nOf women bankrupt. No defence, I pray you.
\nI’ll have no slices of your company.<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nLeave wrangling, sweet, and tell me soft and kind
\nWhere shall I see you next ? I may not tarry.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nWhy, nowhere: for I’ll not receive you, sir.
\nBut if you love a door shut in your face
\nCome to my cottage on the forest’s hem
\nWhere rarer thickets melt into the plain.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nThither I will outstrip the climbing noon.
\nFor this one tedious hour, dear love, farewell.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tA<\/font>LACIEL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nI pray you, sweet, do not break promise with me,
\nFor that will kill me. I will think of you
\nAnd comfort solitude with sighs and tears
\nUntil you dawn afresh, a noontide star.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nExeunt.<\/i><\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1068<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\nThe Woodlands as at first.<\/i><\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nForesters and Girls.<\/i> –
\nMelander leans against a tree absorbed in thought: in one group
\nMarcion and Ermenild are talking: in another lamblichus and
\nMyrtil: Myrtil comes forward.<\/i><\/font> 
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>YRTIL <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nWhat passion, dear Melander, numbs thy voice ?
\nWhy wilt thou cherish humorous peevishness,
\nThe nursling of a moment and a mood ?
\nNow kernelled in the golden husk of day
\nPale night with all her pomp of sorrow sleeps,
\nAnd stinted of soft-clinging melancholy
\nThe elegiac nightingale is hushed,
\nOf melancholy from whose sombre grape
\nShe crushes music out in foamy drops.
\nBut all the votarists of happy Light,
\nA rainbow-throated anarchy of wings,
\nLift anthems to the young viceregent sun:<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nBehind green curtains woven of fibrous baize
\nHis lyric thrill unmasks the robin brown,
\nWhite with soft passion-pained moan the dove
\nMurmurs his love-notes in the long-lived elm:<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nThe linnet pipes his simple pastoral,
\nNay, all the winged poets of the air
\nRecite their stanzas from the pulpit sprays.
\nWhy is thy crimson house of music shut,
\nThy lips that passion into murmured song ?<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nSweet friend, my spirit is too deeply hued
\nWith sombre-sweet Imagination’s brush
\nTo dress the nimble spirit of the dance
\nIn lilt of phrase and honey-packing rhyme.
\nI pray you, urge it not. I am not well.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1069<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\n\tI<\/font>AMBLICHUS <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nUrge him no more. The rash and humorous spirit
\nThat governs him at times, will not be schooled,
\nBut since the sweetest tongue of all is mute
\nSome harsher voice prick on the creeping hour.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>YRTIL
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nAh no, lamblichus! when winds are hushed
\nFall then the clapping cymbals of the sea
\nAnd every green-haired dancing girl downdrops
\nHer foam-tipped sinuous wand to kiss her feet!
\nThe loss of sweetest palls what is but sweet,
\nFor should the honey-throated mavis die,
\nWho in the laughing linnet takes delight
\nOr lends ear to the rhyming hedge-priest wren ?
\nLet us not challenge passion-pale regret,
\nBut hand-in-hand down ruby-tinted walks
\nGather the poppies of sweet speech, to press
\nFor opiates when dank autumn looms and Life
\nIs empty of her rose. Were not this well?<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tI<\/font>AMBLICHUS
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nThy words are sweet as joy, more wise than sorrow.
\nCome, friends, let us steal honey from the hours
\nFor memory to suck when winter comes.<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nExeunt all but Melander.<\/i><\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nAsk me, what drug Circean wakes in me?
\nMy blood steals from my heart like pulsing fire
\nAnd the fresh sap exudes upon my brow.
\nO faster, faster urge thy golden wheels,
\nThou sun that like a fiery lizard creepst
\nGlib-footed to the parapet of heaven!
\nOh that my hand might clutch thy saffron curls
\nAnd thrust thee in the loud Atlantic! So
\nThe violet manes of Evening may drink up<\/font> <\/p>\n

<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1070<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\nThe sweet, damp wind, so dawn the ivory moon
\nAnd lurk shy-peeping in my darling’s eyes.
\nFor my desire is like the passionate sea
\nThat calls unto her paramour the. wind
\nAnd only hears a strangled murmur pant,
\nMute, muffled by the hollow-breasted hills.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nEnter lamblichus with Myrtil in his arms.<\/i><\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>YRTIL <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nNo farther drag my steps, lamblichus!
\nI am not fond to bow my doating neck
\nUnder your feet, like other woodland girls
\nWho image beauty’s model in your shape,
\nHeaven in your eyes and nectar in your kiss.
\nFie, fie, be modest, sir. Let go your grasp.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nAh me, again a sea of subtle fire<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nClamours about the ruby gates of Life!<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nMy soul, expanding like a Pythian seer<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nThrives upon torture, and the insurgent blood,<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nSwollen as with wine, menaces mutiny.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nHow slowly buildst thou up the spacious noon<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nTo dome thy house, O architect of day!<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nNot from the bubbling smithy where Love works<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nSmooth Hebe fetched thy world-revealing fires;<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nNor to the foam-bound bride-bed of the sea
\nThou sailest, but like one with doom foreseen
\nWhose bourne and culmination lapses down
\nTo sunless hell. Hope thou not to set out
\nMy seasons in the golden ink of day:<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nMy heart anticipates the pilot moon<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nWho steers the cloudy-wimpled night. Pale orb,<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nThou art no symbol for my burning soul:<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1071<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\nLag thou behind or lag not, I will lead.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nHe is going out.
\nRe-enter foresters with Palleas.<\/i><\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ARCION <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nWhat’s this, Melander ? Noon not yet has sealed
\nHis titles with the signet of the sun. ‘
\n‘Tis early yet to leave. Why will you go ?<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nI am bound down by iron promises,<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nThe hour named. Would I not linger else ?<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nEven now the promise has outstript the act.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>YRTIL<\/font><\/p>\n

\nMelander, do not go.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nDear child, I must.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tI<\/font>AMBLICHUS
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nCome, come, you shall not go. ‘Tis most unkind,
\nLet me not say uncourteous, to withdraw
\nThe sunshine of your presence from this day,
\nOur little day of unmixed joy. Be ruled.<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\n\tP<\/font>ALLEAS
\n\t<\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nBoy, let me counsel you. This eager fit
\nAnd hot eruption does much detriment
\nTo youth and bodes no good to waning years:<\/font>
\n<\/font><\/p>\n

\nWhen I was young, I ruled my dancing blood,
\nAbstained from brabbles, women, verses, wine,
\nAnd now you see me bask in hale old age
\nMid Autumn’s gilded ruin one green leaf.
\nLife’s palate dulls with much intemperance,
\nAnd whoso breaks the law, the law shall break.
\nLove is a specious angler \u2014<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1072<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\n\tM<\/font>ELANDER <\/font>\n<\/p>\n

\nDotard, off!
\nConfide thy heavy rumours to the grave
\nWhere thou shouldst now be rotting.<\/font> <\/font><\/p>\n

\nExit.<\/i><\/p>\n

\nPage .\u2013 1073<\/font><\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

JUVENILIA  THE WITCH OF ILNI A Dream of the Woodlands   CHARACTERS CORILLO : prince of Ilm VALENTINE : a courtier     IMELANDER : a…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-187","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-07-collected-plays-part-ii-volume-07","wpcat-6-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/187","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=187"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/187\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=187"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=187"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=187"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}