The poetical works of George MacDonald - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Boy_.
No; my mother Came from those parts. She used to sing the song.
I do not understand it well myself, For I was born in Genoa.--Ah! my mother!
[_Weeps_.]
_Julian_.
My mother was a German, my poor boy; My father was Italian: I am like you.
[_Giving him money_.]
You sing of leaves and suns.h.i.+ne, flowers and bees, Poor child, upon a stone in the dark street!
_Boy_.
My mother sings it in her grave; and I Will sing it everywhere, until I die.
SCENE XIII.--LILIA'S _room_. JULIAN _enters with the child; undresses her, and puts her to bed_.
_Lily_.
Father does all things for his little Lily.
_Julian_.
My own dear Lily! Go to sleep, my pet.
[_Sitting by her_.]
"Wenn ich seh' und h.o.r.e dich, Das genugt mir inniglich."
[_Falling on his knees_.]
I come to thee, and, lying on thy breast, Father of me, I tell thee in thine ear, Half-shrinking from the sound, yet speaking free, That thou art not enough for me, my G.o.d.
Oh, dearly do I love thee! Look: no fear Lest thou shouldst be offended, touches me.
Herein I know thy love: mine casts out fear.
O give me back my wife; thou without her Canst never make me blessed to the full.
[_Silence_.]
O yes; thou art enough for me, my G.o.d; Part of thyself she is, else never mine.
My need of her is but thy thought of me; She is the offspring of thy beauty, G.o.d; Yea of the womanhood that dwells in thee: Thou wilt restore her to my very soul.
[_Rising_.]
It may be all a lie. Some needful cause Keeps her away. Wretch that I am, to think One moment that my wife could sin against me!
She will come back to-night. I know she will.
I never can forgive my jealousy!
Or that fool-visit to lord Seaford's house!
[_His eyes fall on the glove which the child still holds in her sleeping hand. He takes it gently away, and hides it in his bosom_.]
It will be all explained. To think I should, Without one word from her, condemn her so!
What can I say to her when she returns?
I shall be utterly ashamed before her.
She will come back to-night. I know she will.
[_He throws himself wearily on the bed_.]
SCENE XIV.--_Crowd about the Italian Opera-House_. JULIAN. LILY _in his arms. Three_ Students.
_1st Student_.
Edward, you see that long, lank, thread-bare man?
There is a character for that same novel You talk of thunder-striking London with, One of these days.
_2nd St_.
I scarcely noticed him; I was so taken with the lovely child.
She is angelic.
_3rd St_.
You see angels always, Where others, less dim-sighted, see but mortals.
She is a pretty child. Her eyes are splendid.
I wonder what the old fellow is about.
Some crazed enthusiast, music-distract, That lingers at the door he cannot enter!
Give him an obol, Frank, to pay old Charon, And cross to the Elysium of sweet sounds.
Here's mine.
_1st St_.
And mine.
_2nd St_.
And mine.
[_3rd Student offers the money to_ JULIAN.]
_Julian_ (_very quietly_).
No, thank you, sir.
_Lily_.
Oh! there is mother!
[_Stretching-her hands toward a lady stepping out of a carriage_.]
_Julian_.
No, no; hush, my child!
[_The lady looks round, and _LILY _clings to her father_.
