Icilius! Icilius! Come to me!
[Enter a lictor—she shrinks back terrified.
Lictor. Lady, I must exhort thee to be prudent;
Such cries will but confine thee e'en more strait
Than thou art now confined. Silence is best.
So ordered Appius, our gracious lord. [Exit lictor.
Virginia (sobbing softly). I will be still! But I am so afraid,
I, innocent, know nothing of the world.
Life-bondage? Nay, methinks I am but mad.
Severed from him! Ah! lay me in my grave,
Rather than have my heart torn from my breast.
[Music is distantly heard.
Oh! If to pass in moonbeams from this life
Mid the pure notes of music stealing on
Into my brain and sinking in my breast,
Enveloping my soul; or to the sound
Of rushing wind—that music of the gods
Swept by Apollo's hand, or harking to
The distant murmur of the restless sea,
Striking its pearly harp of mystic sounds,
Echoed within the caves where maidens dwell,
Nereides and Oceanides,
With faces like the sheen of moonbeams, forms
Like the white foam their sire, Neptune, makes
When angered, with his trident! If to sleep,
Sleeping, to dream, and dreaming, live again
The years that now lie white upon their bier.
[The moon vanishes behind a cloud.
Ah, me! I am so utterly alone!
The moon hath veiled herself, the silence drear
Knocks on my heart, unhidden enters in,
Where once love and sweet innocence, in peace
Dwelt, all unscarred by a despoiler's hand.
It is grown cold! What was that sound I heard?
I am so sunk in solitude, so wrapped
In vacant space, so chilled, I gasp for breath,
Like drowning mariner; but for a hand
Warm, loving, to uplift me from this death
Among the living, life among the dead!
Cor. Virginia! Weep or pray, but do not so!
Alas, Virginia, art thou turned to stone?
[Virginia, all unhearing, turns once more toward the columns where the moon again shines through.
Virginia (singing).
"In the deep dream-light thy bark thou art guiding,
Shifting thy garments, the clouds, as a sail.
Rocked o'er celestial waves thou art riding,
Hiding thy features behind a light veil.
Dian, the spell of thy muteness cast o'er me.
Calm the wild tumult which wars in my brain,
E'er through my life may thine image, before me.
Shining and constant as ever remain."
[A silence falls. Virginia steals up to Cornelia, who stands weeping alone.