Part 22 (1/2)

Ere the moon has climbed the mountain, ere the rocks are ribbed with light, When the downward-dipping trails are dank and drear,

Comes a breathing hard behind thee--_snuffle-snuffle_ through the night-- It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!

On thy knees and draw the bow; bid the shrilling arrow go; In the empty, mocking thicket plunge the spear!

But thy hands are loosed and weak, and the blood has left thy cheek-- It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!

When the heat-cloud sucks the tempest, when the slivered pine-trees fall, When the blinding, blaring rain-squalls lash and veer, Through the war-gongs of the thunder rings a voice more loud than all-- It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear!

Now the spates are banked and deep; now the footless boulders leap-- Now the lightning shows each littlest leaf-rib clear-- But thy throat is shut and dried, and thy heart against thy side Hammers: Fear, O Little Hunter--this is Fear!

GOW'S WATCH

ACT II. SCENE 2

_The pavilion in the Gardens. Enter Ferdinand and the King_

_Ferdinand_. Your tiercel's too long at hack. Sir.

He's no eya.s.s But a pa.s.sage-hawk that footed ere we caught him.

Dangerously free o' the air. Faith, were he mine (As mine's the glove he binds to for his tirings) I'd fly him with a make-hawk. He's in yarak Plumed to the very point. So manned, so weathered!

Give him the firmament G.o.d made him for.

And what shall take the air of him?

_The King_. A young wing yet.

Bold--overbold on the perch, but, think you, Ferdinand, He can endure the tall skies yonder? Cozen Advantage out of the teeth of the hurricane?

Choose his own mate against the lammer-geier?

Ride out a night-long tempest, hold his pitch Between the lightning and the cloud it leaps from, Never too pressed to kill?

_Ferdinand_. I'll answer for him.

Bating all parable, I know the Prince.

There's a bleak devil in the young, my Lord; G.o.d put it there to save 'em from their elders And break their father's heart, but bear them scatheless Through mire and thorns and blood if need be.

Think What our prime saw! Such glory, such achievements As now our children, wondering at, examine Themselves to see if they shall hardly equal.

But what cared we while we wrought the wonders?

Nothing!

The rampant deed contented.

_The King_. Little enough, G.o.d knows! But afterwards? After-- There comes the reckoning. I would save him that.

_Ferdinand_. Save him dry scars that ache of winter-nights.

Worn out self-pity and as much of knowledge As makes old men fear judgment? Then loose him--loose him, A' G.o.d's name loose him to adventure early!

And trust some random pike, or half-backed horse, Besides what's caught in Italy, to save him.

_The King_. I know. I know. And yet ... What stirs in the garden?

_Enter Gow and a Gardener bearing the Prince's body_