And yet I will not go, for I have purposed-- And you tonight shall help me--(_pauses_)
_Ion._ Forgiveness of my disobedience-- That may be won from him with Myrrha's face.
_Ion._ Which can alone of earthly sights, If what you tell of his dead wife be true: And well you know it is!--He must behold her-- And hear our pleading.
_Ion._ Let her be placed yonder within those curtains, While he is mingling here his mysteries, And when he----
_Rhasis._ By the Prophet who is Allah's, Myrrha! Within this chamber! and tonight!
[_Ion goes to the door and leads Myrrha in._
Is there no heed in youth or hesitation, But only hurrying want! Do you not know He is without there, at this moment, saying Unto the seven planets in their spheres, The seven incantations against death? And that he----
_Rhasis._ And of all nights in the world, only tonight!
_Myrrha._ No, Ion! let us go. I fear this place, Its strangeness and that still sarcophagus Appal me.
_Ion._ And make you forget our love, And the long bridal-hope of it deferred?
_Rhasis._ Young master, she does not, in penury too! But pleas tonight would ope no nuptial way. Better than you I know it is not wise. For ten years is it I have dwelt with him While he has sought in vain this great Elixir. Ten passings of the pilgrims off to Mecca His wife has lain in that sarcophagus, Embalmed and waiting, as he thinks, to rise. And now, this hour, he hopes that it shall be.
_Ion._ And should it, will he not the more forgive me? Or should it not, then seeing Myrrha's face, Myrrha whom you have said is so much like her, Will he not----
_Myrrha._ Ion, no! but might--I fear! So fond his grief is and unfaceable! Let us return again unto the city And to my kindred who will hold us dear.
Listen, is it not he? (_Rhasis goes to window_) Take me away!
_Ion._ And have him at the breaking of his dream With none near--and our love's desire be lost?
_Myrrha._ It will not: let us wait another time!
_Ion._ Than this when most your face would deeply move him? I cannot, and 'twould shame me! for you know How dear to him is his dead wife who lies there,
And know our severed days! And shall we bend the knee to cowardice, Which ever has a premonition ready, When you who are so like her might tonight----