Volume 5 / Part 1 / Act 3 — Scene III.—The secret Passage.

Gab. (solus).‍Four— Five—six hours have I counted, like the guard Of outposts, on the never-merry clock, That hollow tongue[190] of time, which, even when It sounds for joy, takes something from enjoyment With every clang. 'Tis a perpetual knell, Though for a marriage-feast it rings: each stroke Peals for a hope the less; the funeral note Of Love deep-buried, without resurrection, In the grave of Possession; while the knoll[191]10 Of long-lived parents finds a jovial echo To triple time in the son's ear. I'm cold— I'm dark;—I've blown my fingers—numbered o'er And o'er my steps—and knocked my head against Some fifty buttresses—and roused the rats And bats in general insurrection, till Their curséd pattering feet and whirling wings Leave me scarce hearing for another sound. A light! It is at distance (if I can Measure in darkness distance): but it blinks20 As through a crevice or a key-hole, in The inhibited direction: I must on, Nevertheless, from curiosity. A distant lamp-light is an incident In such a den as this. Pray Heaven it lead me To nothing that may tempt me! Else—Heaven aid me To obtain or to escape it! Shining still! Were it the star of Lucifer himself, Or he himself girt with its beams, I could Contain no longer. Softly: mighty well!30 That corner's turned—so—ah! no;—right! it draws Nearer. Here is a darksome angle—so, That's weathered.—Let me pause.—Suppose it leads Into some greater danger than that which I have escaped—no matter, 'tis a new one; And novel perils, like fresh mistresses, Wear more magnetic aspects:—I will on, And be it where it may—I have my dagger Which may protect me at a pinch.—Burn still, Thou little light! Thou art my ignis fatuus!40 My stationary Will-o'-the-wisp![192]—So! so! He hears my invocation, and fails not.[The scene closes.