Fear of a coward's name shall not detain me.
My presence would but bring down evil on you,
My heart's beloved; yes, all the ill you fear,
The terrible things that you have imaged out
If you fled with me. They will not hurt you,
If you be not polluted by my presence.
[Light from without flares on the wall.]
They've fired the gate.
[An outburst of mingled cries.]
Steward (entering). They've fired the gate, my lord!
Julian.
Well, put yourself in safety, my dear Joseph.
You and old Agata tell all the truth,
And they'll forgive you. It will not hurt me;
I shall be safe—you know me—never fear.
Steward.
God grant it may be so. Farewell, dear lord!
[Is going.]
Julian.
But add, it was in vain; the signorina
Would not consent; therefore I fled alone.
[LILIA stands as before.]
Steward. Can it be so? Good-bye, good-bye, my master!
[Goes.]
Julian.
Put your arms round me once, my Lilia.
Not once?—not once at parting?
[Rushing feet up the stairs, and along the galleries.]
O God! farewell!
[He clasps her to his heart; leaves her; pushes back the panel, flings open a door, enters, and closes both behind him. LILIA starts suddenly from her fixed bewilderment, and flies after him, but forgets to close the panel.]
Lilia. Julian! Julian!
[The trampling offset and clamour of voices. The door of the room is flung open. Enter the foremost of the mob.]
1st.
I was sure I saw light here! There it is, burning still!
2nd.
Nobody here? Praise the devil! he minds his
own. Look under the bed, Gian.
3rd.
Nothing there.
4th.
Another door! another door! He's in a trap now, and will soon be in hell! (Opening the door with difficulty.) The devil had better leave him, and make up the fire at home—he'll be cold by and by. (Rushes into the inner room.) Follow me, boys! [The rest follow.]
Voices from within.
I have him! I have him! Curse your claws! Why do you fix them on me, you crab? You won't pick up the fiend-spawn so easily, I can tell you. Bring the light there, will you? (One runs out for the light.) A trap! a trap! and a stair, down in the wall! The hell-faggot's gone! After him, after him, noodles!
[Sound of descending footsteps. Others rush in with torches and follow.]
SCENE XIX.—The river-side. LILIA seated in the boat; JULIAN handing her the bags
Julian.
There! One at a time!—Take care, love; it
is heavy.—
Put them right in the middle, of the boat:
Gold makes good ballast.
[A loud shout. He steps in and casts the chain loose, then pushes gently off.]
Look how the torches gleam
Among the trees. Thank God, we have escaped!
[He rows swiftly off. The torches come nearer, with cries of search.]
(In a low tone.) Slip down, my Lilia; lie at full length
In the bottom of the boat; your dress is white,
And would return the torches' glare. I fear
The damp night-air will hurt you, dressed like this.
[Pulling off his coat, and laying it over her.]
Now for a strong pull with my muffled oars!
The water mutters Spanish in its sleep.
My beautiful! my bride! my spirit's wife!
God-given, and God-restored! My heart exults,
Hovering about thee, beautiful! my soul!—
Once round the headland, I will set the sail;
The fair wind bloweth right adown the stream.
Dear wind, dear stream, dear stars, dear heart of all,
White angel lying in my little boat!
Strange that my boyhood's skill with sail and helm,
Oft steering safely 'twixt the winding banks,
Should make me rich with womanhood and life!
[The boat rounds the headland, JULIAN singing.]
