A REMOTE PART OF THE MOUNTAIN WITH THE MOUTH OF A HORRIBLE CAVE.
THE SAME.
KING. Look, O Patrick, for you go
Turning towards a part forbidden,
Where the light of the sun is hidden
Even in the noon-tide's glow.
Through this wilderness of woe
Even the hunter in pursuit
Of his prey ne'er placed a foot
On its trackless wild walks green,
Since for ages it has been
Shunned alike by man and brute.
PHILIP. We for many and many a year,
Who have lived here from our youth,
Never dared to learn the truth
Of the secrets hidden here;
For the entrance did appear
In itself enough to make
Even the bravest heart to quake.
No one yet has dared to brave
The wild rocks that guard this cave,
Or the waters of this lake.
KING. And for auguries we heard,
Borne the troubled wind along,
Oft the sad funereal song
Of some lone nocturnal bird.
PHILIP. Be the rash attempt deferred.
PATRICK. Let not causeless fear arise;
For a treasure of the skies
Here is hidden.
KING. What is fear?
Could it ever me come near
In an earthquake's agonies?
No; for though the flames should break
As from some sulphureous lake,
And the mountains' sides run red
From the molten fires outshed,
They could ne'er my courage shake,
Never make me fear.
* * * * *