And  stint  your  soul  of  the  pleasure,  the

keenest  of  all  that  we  know  !


462


Kildrostan


Drive  the  winds  over  the  ocean,  yet

say  to  the  mad  waves,  Peace  !
Why  should  you  lift  up    your   heads

now  ?    there,  let   your    murmurings

cease  !
Easy  to  say,  Forgive,  and  lay  up  your

wrath  on  the  shelf:
But  how,  if  you  take  it  so  tamely,  shall

you  respect  yourself?
If  you're  a  worm  to  be  trod  on,  trod

on  you  shall  be  again  ;
Never  a  woman  insipid  found  chivalrous

spirit  in  men. —
So   did   the   wild   heart    brood  now,

passioning  so  in  her  wrath,
And    plotted    to    sweep    her    victim

ruthlessly  out  of  her  path.
Scene — Room  in  Cairn-Callkach.     Tremain
and  DoRI?.
Doris.
Well,  sir,  what  think  you  of  this  gear  ?

Tremain.
Think,  Doris  !
I  am  past  thinking  :    there's  a  social

earthquake
Shaking   my  world,  and  toppling  all

things  down.
While  darkness  reigns,  and  mystery,

and  silence.
What  does  it  mean  ?   There's  Diarmid,

on  a  sudden,
Off  like  the  swallows,  with  no  fare-

you-well,
And  leaving  no  more  trace  than  flight

of  bird
Through  the  impassive  air  ;  his  mother

packing
To   follow  him,  and  not  a  word   to

explain.
But  Celtic  exclamations  all  day  long.
Doris.
So  he  is  gone  already.
Tremain.
Ay,  he's  gone ;
But   why  and  whither  has   he   gone,

and  left
His  guest  to  seek  for  other  quarters,

just
When  one   was  taking  to   the  place,

and  felt
Its  strangeness,  which  at  first  was  like

a  dream,
Growing  familiar,  with  a  taste  of  life
Fresh  as  the  salt  sea  breezes  ?

Doris.
Gone  already !
I  did  not  count  on  that.     And  she's

off  too.
