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remain not here, Rest not in those narrow limits, But rise up with me and dare Heights that make the brain grow dizzy:- And at once to enter there, Other things being pretermitted, Let us venture where the mind, As the darkness round it thickens, Almost faints as we resume What this mystic scribe has written. "And the Word", this writer says, "Was made flesh!" Ah! how can this be? Could the Word that in the beginning Was with God, was God, was gifted With such power as to make all things, Could it be made flesh? In pity, Heavens! or take from me at once All the sense that you have given me, Or at once on me bestow Some intelligence, some glimmer Of clear light through these dark shadows:- Deity, unknown and hidden, God or Word, whate'er thou beest, Of Thyself the great beginner, Of Thyself the end, if, Thou Being Thyself beyond time's sickle, Still in time the world didst fashion, If Thou 'rt life, O living spirit, If Thou 'rt light, my darkened senses With Thy life and light enkindle!- (The voices of two spirits are heard from within, one at each side.)

First Voice. Hear, Chrysanthus . . .

Second Voice.
Listen . . .

CHRYSANTHUS.
Two Voices, if they are not instincts, Shadows without soul or body, Which my fancy forms within me, Are contending in my bosom Each with each at the same instant. (Two figures appear on high, one clothed in a dark robe dotted with stars; the other in a bright and beautiful mantle: Chrysanthus does not see them, but in the following scene ever speaks to himself.)

First Voice. What this crabbed text here meaneth By the Word, is plain and simple, It is Jove to whose great voice Gods and men obedient listen.

CHRYSANTHUS. Jove, it must be Jove, by whom Breath, speech, life itself are given.

Second Voice. What the holy Gospel means By the Word, is that great Spirit Who was in Himself for ever, First, last, always self-existent.

CHRYSANTHUS. Self-existent! first and last! Reason cannot grasp that dictum.

First Voice. In the beginning of the world Jove in heaven his high throne fix`ed, Leaving less imperial thrones To the other gods to fill them.

CHRYSANTHUS. Yes, if he could not alone Rule creation unassisted.

Second Voice. God was God, long, long before Earth or heaven's blue vault existed, He was in Himself, ere He Gave to time its life and mission.

First Voice. Worship only pay to Jove, God o'er all our gods uplifted.

Second Voice. Worship pay to God alone, He the infinite, the omniscient.

First Voice. He doth lord the world below.

Second Voice. He is Lord of Heaven's high kingdom.

First Voice. Shun the lightnings of his wrath.

Second Voice. Seek the waves of his forgiveness. [The Figures disappear.

CHRYSANTHUS. Oh! what darkness, what confusion, In myself I find here pitted 'Gainst each other! Spirits twain Struggle desperately within me, Spirits twain of good and ill,- One with gentle impulse wins me To believe, but, oh! the other With opposing force resistless Drives me back to doubt: Oh! who Will dispel these doubts that fill me?

POLEMIUS (within). Yes, Carpophorus must pay For the trouble that this gives me.-

CHRYSANTHUS. Though these words by chance were spoken As an omen I 'll admit them: Since Carpophorus (who in Rome Was the most renowned, most gifted Master in all science), now Flying from the emperor's lictors, Through suspect of being a Christian, In lone deserts wild and dismal Lives a saintly savage life, He will give to all my wishes The solution of these doubts:- And till then, O restless thinking Torture me and tease no more! Let me live for that! [His voice gradually rises.

ESCARPIN (within).
Within there My young master calls.

CLAUDIUS (within).
All enter. (Enter Polemius, Claudius, Aurelius, and Escarpin).

POLEMIUS. My Chrysanthus, what afflicts thee?

CHRYSANTHUS. Canst thou have been here, my father?

POLEMIUS. No, my son, 't was but this instant That I entered here, alarmed By the strange and sudden shrillness Of thy voice; and though I had On my hands important business, Grave and weighty, since to me Hath the Emperor transmitted This decree, which bids me search Through the mountains for the Christians Hidden there, and specially For Carpophorus, their admitted Chief and teacher, for which cause I my voice too thus uplifted- "Yes, Carpophorus must pay For the trouble that this gives me"- I left all at hearing thee.- Why so absent? so bewildered? What 's the reason?

CHRYSANTHUS.
Sir, 't is naught.

POLEMIUS. Whom didst thou address?

CHRYSANTHUS.
Here sitting I was reading to myself, And perchance conceived some image I may have addressed in words Which have from my memory flitted.

POLEMIUS. The grave sadness that o'erwhelms thee Will, unless it be resisted, Undermine thy understanding, If thou hast it still within thee.

CLAUDIUS. 'T is a loud soliloquy, 'T is a rather audible whisper That compels one's friends to hasten Full of fear to his assistance!

CHRYSANTHUS. Well, excitement may . . .

POLEMIUS.
Oh! cease; That excuse will scarce acquit thee, Since when one 's alone, excitement Is a flame that 's seldom kindled. I am pleased, well pleased to see thee To the love of books addicted, But then application should not To extremes like this be driven, Nor should letters alienate thee From thy country, friends, and kinsmen.

CLAUDIUS. A young man by heaven so favoured, With such rare endowments gifted, Blessed with noble birth and valour, Dowered with genius, rank, and riches, Can he yield to such enthralment, Can he make his room a prison, Can he waste in idle reading The fair flower of his existence?

POLEMIUS. Dost thou not remember also That thou art my son? Bethink thee That the great Numerianus, Our good emperor, has given me The grand government of Rome As chief senator of the city, And with that imperial burden The whole world too-all the kingdoms, All the provinces subjected To its varied, vast dominion. Know'st thou not, from Alexandria, From my native land, my birth-place, Where on many a proud escutcheon My ancestral fame is written, That he brought me here, the weight Of his great crown to bear with him, And that Rome upon my entry Gave to me a recognition That repaid the debt it owed me, Since the victories were admitted Which in glorious alternation By my sword and pen were given her? Through what vanity, what folly, Wilt thou not enjoy thy birth-right As my son and heir, indulging Solely in these idle whimseys?-

CHRYSANTHUS. Sir, the state in which you see me, This secluded room, this stillness, Do not spring from want of feeling, Or indifference to your wishes. 'T is my natural disposition; For I have no taste to mingle In the vulgar vain pursuits Of the courtier crowds ambitious. And if living to myself here More of true enjoyment gives me, Why would you desire me seek for That which must my joys diminish? Let this time of sadness pass, Let these hours of lonely vigil, Then for fame and its applauses, Which no merit of my own, But my father's name may bring me.

POLEMIUS. Would it not, my son, be fitter That you should enjoy those plaudits In the fresh and blooming spring-time Of your life, and to hereafter Leave the loneliness and vigil?

ESCARPIN. Let me tell a little story Which will make the whole thing simple:- A bad painter bought a house, Altogether a bad business, For the house itself was bad: He however was quite smitten With his purchase, and would show it To a friend of his, keen-witted, But bad also: when they entered, The first room was like a kitchen, Black and bad:-"This room, you see, sir, Now is bad, but just permit me First to have it whitewashed over, Then shall my own hand with pictures Paint the walls from floor to ceiling, Then you 'll see how bright 't will glisten".- To him thus his friend made answer, Smiling archly: "Yes, 't will glisten, But if you would paint it first, And then whitewash o'er the pictures, The effect would be much better".- Now 's the time for you, my lord, To lay on the shining pigment: On that brilliant ground hereafter Will the whitewash fall more fitly, For, in fine, the poorest painting Is improved by time's slow finger.

CHRYSANTHUS. Sir, I say, that in obedience To your precepts, to your wishes, I will strive from this day forward So to act, that you will think me Changed into another being. [Exit.

POLEMIUS. Claudius, my paternal instinct Makes me fear Chrysanthus' sadness, Makes we tremble that its issue May result in total madness. Since thou art his friend and kinsman Both combined, make out, I pray thee, What occasions this bewitchment, To the end that I may break it: And my promise now I give thee, That although I should discover Love's delirious dream delicious May be at the root,-most likely At his age the true suspicion,- It shall not disturb or grieve me. Nay, since I am doomed to witness His dejection, it will glad me To find out that so it springeth.

ESCARPIN. Once a high priest of Apollo Had two nephews soft and silly, More than silly, wretched creatures, More than wretched, doltish drivels; And perceiving from experience How love smartens up its victims, He but said to them this only, "Fall in love at least, ye ninnies".- Thus, though not in love, sir, now, I 'll be bound he 'll be so quickly, Merely to oblige you.

POLEMIUS.
This Is not quite as I would wish it, For when anything has happened, The desire to know it, differs From the wish it so should happen.

CLAUDIUS. I, my lord, my best assistance Offer thee to strive and fathom From what cause can have arisen Such dejection and such sadness; This henceforth shall be my business To divert him and distract him.

POLEMIUS. Such precisely are my wishes: And since now I am forced to go In obedience to the mission Sent me by Numerianus, 'Mid the wastes to search for Christians, In my absence, Claudius, Most consoling thoughts 't will give me, To remember that thou watchest O'er Chrysanthus.

CLAUDIUS.
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