Now, knife, stand firmly, as I fain would fall!
[As he rushes to throw himself upon the knife, his eye is suddenly caught by the fountain, which seems in motion.
The fountain moves without a wind: but shall
The ripple of a spring change my resolve?
No. Yet it moves again! The waters stir,
Not as with air, but by some subterrane80
And rocking Power of the internal world.
What's here? A mist! No more?—
[A cloud comes from the fountain. He stands gazing upon it: it is dispelled, and a tall black man comes towards him.[207]
Arn.What would you? Speak!