Chapter 6Scene 2

Before Alaciel’s house. Melander alone. MELANDER Now, for her widowed state is wooed by night, The sable-vested air puts on her stars And in her bosom pins for brooch the moon. She from her diamond chalice soon will pour Her flowing glories on a rose’s hair, In pity of my love. Sweet crimson rose, Alaciel’s lamp, the beacon of my bliss, O kindle quickly at the moon thy rays. How happy art thou being near my love! For thou who hast the perfume of her breath, Why shouldest thou the spice-lipped Zephyr want? Her dove’s-feet whispering in the happy grass Are surely lovelier to thee than the dawn; Or wilt thou woo the world-embracing orb, Who hast the splendour of her eyes to soothe Thy slumber into waking? O red rose, Might I but merge in thee, how would her touch Thrill all my petals with delicious pain! O could I pawn my beauty for a kiss, How happy were I to waste all myself In shreds of scarlet ruin at her feet! It is my hour! for see, the cowslip-curled Night-wandering patroness of lovers throws Her lantern’s orange-coloured beams, where sleeps A bright, blown rose. Hail, empress of the stars! Be thou tonight my hymeneal torch. Alaciel! Echo, hush thy babbling tongue!

Act III, Scene 2 ’Tis not Narcissus calls. I am a thief Who steal from beauty’s garden one sweet bud Nor need like visitants thy tinkling bell. Alaciel! O with thy opiate wand, Thought-killing Mercury, seal every eye On whom the drowsy Morpheus has not breathed. Yet once again the charm. Alaciel! Now at thy window dawn, thou lovelier moon Than sojourns in the sky! look out on me, An ivory face thro’ rippling clouds of hair. Enter Alaciel above. Marcion and Doris behind. ALACIEL Who calls? [The next sixteen pages of the notebook were torn out.]