Aibric. I am on his side. |
Ill strike a blow for him to give him time |
To cast his dreams away. |
[Aibric
goes in front of Forgael with drawn sword. Forgael takes the harp.] |
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First Sailor. No other ll
do it. |
[The Sailors throw Aibric on one side. He falls and lies upon the deck. They lift their swords to
strike Forgael, who is about to play the harp. The stage begins to darken. The Sailors hesitate in fear.] |
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Second Sailor. He has put a sudden darkness over the moon. |
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Dectora. Nine swords with handles
of rhinoceros horn |
To him that strikes him first! |
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First Sailor. I will strike him first. |
[He goes close
up to Forgael with his sword lifted.] |
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[Shrinking back.] He has caught the crescent moon out of
the sky, |
And carries it between us. |
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Second Sailor. Holy fire |
To burn us to the marrow if we
strike. |
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Dectora. Ill give a golden galley full of fruit, |
That has the heady flavour of new wine, |
To
him that wounds him to the death. |
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First Sailor. Ill do it. |
For all his spells will vanish when he
dies, |
Having their life in him. |
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Second Sailor. Though it be the moon |
That he is holding up between
us there, |
I will strike at him. |
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The Others. And I! And I! And I! |
[Forgael plays the harp.] |
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First
Sailor [falling into a dream suddenly]. But you were saying there is somebody |
Upon that other ship we
are to wake. |
You did not know what brought him to his end, |
But it was sudden. |
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Second Sailor.
You are in the right; |
I had forgotten that we must go wake him. |
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Dectora. He has flung a Druid
spell upon the air, |
And set you dreaming. |
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Second Sailor. How can we have a wake |
When we
have neither brown nor yellow ale? |
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First Sailor. I saw a flagon of brown ale aboard her. |
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Third
Sailor. How can we raise the keen that do not know |
What name to call him by? |
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First Sailor.
Come to his ship. |
His name will come into our thoughts in a minute. |
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