Psychologies - Sir Ross Ronald (top 10 motivational books txt) 📗

class="dramaline">A friend! I come!

Frogs. A friend! I come!Kilkillutty cluck,

Clickutty cluck, clickutty cluck,

Click, cluck.

Melfort. Click, cluck.No answer.

Melfort. Click, cluck.No answer.Ho!

A friend! Give answer. Let me hear you

That I may find you.

Frogs. That I may find you.Hiccutty hac,

Hiccutty, huccutty, hiccutty hac.

Hicutty.

Melfort.Strange; nothing replies.

I plunge here like a dog at loss;

And all the sleeping startled pools

Exclaim against me, and the flowers—

Deep-drowsèd water-lilies—wake

In nodding wonder.

In nodding wonder.A friend! I come!

Give answer! Ho!

Efts. Give answer! Ho!Tiu, Tiu,

Tiu, Tiu.

Melfort. No one replies.

Pools, pools, and water everywhere,

And midnight and the dying moon!

I am afraid, and my knees tremble.

No answer. Hush. There’s nothing stirs,

Save only the frogs in bubbled mire

And yonder swaying bulrushes

That by battalions beckon each other

In the murky moon. Look how—look how

The ghostly globes of fairy fire

Ooze from the marsh-mire and creep up

Their callow stems and leap in air,

Becoming fen-fires. Listen! Hark!

The croaking chorus of the fen.

Toads.Glick, gluck, glickutty gluck,

Glickutty, glickutty, glickutty gluck.

Melfort.See, see, my soul! O what is this?

A snake?—A steel that gleaming lies!

O my unerring ears—a dagger!

Frogs.Kil, kul, kil, kul,

Killutty, kul.

Melfort. Killutty, kul.The dagger is bloody!

The villain has stolen away his victim!

Stay, murderer, villain!

Frogs. Stay, murderer, villain!Hic, huc,

Hiccutty huc.

Melfort. Hiccutty huc.Here’s a deed!

But look you now upon this thing

Here by the livid moonlight seen.

Strange that this dagger so should drip

With blood yet be as bloody still

As ’twas before! It runs for ever.

See from the point a bloody stream

Runs on for ever, soaking earth!

I am enchanted! Ha, I gasp!

Are these but frogs that cry around—

Ten myriad frogs and toads that cry—

“Kill kill, kill, kill”?—Whom should I kill?

Frogs.Kil, kul, killutty kul,

Kil kil kil, kil kil kul.

Melfort.See, see in the moonlight—there on the bank—

A horror that lies!

A horror that lies!O pitiful God!

Look here! O pitiful sight!—dead, dead!

A maiden; and murdered and so pale!

What, here in the marsh!—A maiden—dead!

Chorus.Súmph, súmph, súmph, súmph.

Melfort.So beautiful, young, and yet so dead?

They have robbed her—the villains—and gone!

They have robbed her—the villains—and gone!See here,

A pitiful wound in the lovely breast;

And under the wound, among the grass,

A little glow-worm—as if it were

Her soul dropt out among the flowers—

Her soul dropt out of the wound!

Frogs. Her soul dropt out of the wound!Quuck,

Kilutty kullutty quickutty quuck.

Melfort.The marsh flowers that spring about her

Are busy to hide her in their arms,

With open mouths kissing her delicate flesh!

Toads.Huncutty hincutty huncutty hic,

Killutty quickutty kill, quick.

Evaïd.Ah me!

Melfort. Evaïd.Ah me!She is alive, and lifts

Her loaded lids!

Evaïd. Her loaded lids!Ah me, I die.

Melfort.A witch! a fairy thing!—See here

A chaplet of flowers upon her brow—

Of lilies and daisies on her brow!

Evaïd.Ah me, alas!

Melfort. Evaïd.Ah me, alas!She looks at me—

And O the swooning light of her eyes!

If you will die thus beautifully,

Die thus for ever!

Evaïd. Die thus for ever!O the pain!

Melfort.Am I a fool, a senseless stock,

To haver thus the while she dies!

Come, I will hide you in my coat,

Enwrap you here and hide you thus;

And press my kerchief to your wound.

(O beautiful breast; O bitter wound;

O cruel, carvèd, bitter wound.)

Come, courage, come. Come lay your head

Here. Do not moan, for I will go

And fetch you succour from the town.

(She is not cold, but burns like fire—

For all her ebbing blood doth flow

In guilty oozing from her breast.

What, wounded in water, yet so warm!)

Evaïd.I am dying. Let me be.

Let me perish, let me be.

Melfort.No, no, you shall not perish, dear,

For I will bring you succour soon.

So courage, my child—I will return.

Evaïd.Do not leave me, do not grieve me,

Do not leave me ere I die;

If you leave me I shall perish;

Linger by me while I die.

Melfort.I must go and bring some aid for you,

Or you will die here in the marsh.

(Heavens, how she clings upon my arm;

Heavens, how her fingers cling upon me;

And O the swooning light of her eyes!)

What, shall I take you in my arms, then,

And bear you to the town?

And bear you to the town?I dare not.

What, do you clasp your arms about me,

Who should be dead by now! (Alas!

The languid head, the dying eyes!—

Yet she is warm; not chill, not cold,

Not like a corpse!) Hold up your head.

Why do you cling upon me? (God,

The slender, beautiful, long arms!)

Evaïd.If you leave me, I shall perish;

If you grieve me, I shall die.

O the trembling and the torment,

O the trembling and the cold!

O the paining, O the pining,

O the paining in my wound!

Melfort.Come then, I’ll bear you.

Melfort.Come then, I’ll bear you.No, I will not.

What is it I hear?—the accursed frogs

That cry!

That cry!I will not carry you—

Not take you in my arms. I see

Some magic here. Maids crown’d with flowers

But dying wounded are not found.

See now I stand away. For listen!

They cry, “kill, kill.” The squatting toads

And gulping frogs do croak it forth,

And the lip-licking efts of the pool,

And worms, come out of the earth to cry it—

“Kill, kill; kill, kill.”—Whom should I kill?

The misty glamours of the moon

Amaze me; and you die not yet,

Who with that wounding should be dead.

There is some dire enchantment on me.

Why do you die not, being wounded—

And in the heart? When you are dead

I’ll carry you. Till then, lie there.

Evaïd.Will you leave the poor one dying,

Lying dying, lying dying,

Lying in the cold cold water,

Sighing, dying all alone?

Melfort.Nay, then, I’ll take you—though I die.

The moon is magical and the marsh

Peopled with voices. So—your head

Upon my shoulder: thus. So, so;

And put your arms about me—so.

You may have trust in me—I’m honest,

And have a sister lives with me,

And she shall tend you. All the land

Shall follow to-morrow your murderer . . .

So there . . . your weight is but a child’s . . .

But stay, I have forgot the dagger—

The dagger that gleams on the glistening grass.

Evaïd.No, no, leave it there;

Leave the dagger where it fell;

Leave the dagger burning bright;

Leave the bitter biting steel.

Melfort.No . . . I’ll take it. Now come on.

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