Seest thou this mountain?
LUIS. Ah! I see
My death in it.
POLONIA [aside]. My heart grows cold.
Ah! who is this that I behold?
LUIS [aside]. I cannot think it. Is it she?
POLONIA [aside]. 'Tis Luis, now I know.
LUIS [aside]. Perhaps illusion it may be
To baffle my intent, and lead
My erring feet astray. -- [to POLONIA}. Proceed.
POLONIA [aside]. Say, can it be to conquer me
The common enemy doth send
This spectre here?
LUIS. You do not speak.
POLONIA. Attend.
This mighty mountain, rock bestrown,
Full well the dreaded secret knows;
But no one to its centre goes
By any path o'er land alone:
He who would see this wondrous cave
Must in a bark put forth and tempt the lake's dark wave.
[Aside.] I struggle with a wish to wreak
Revenge, which pity doth subdue.
LUIS [aside]. It doth my happiness renew
Once more to see and hear her speak.
POLONIA [aside]. Within me opposite thoughts contend.
LUIS [aside]. Ah, me! I die. -- You do not speak.
POLONIA. Attend.
This darksome lake doth all surround
The lofty mountain's rugged base,
And so to reach the awful place
An easy passage may be found:
A sacred convent in the island stands,
Midway between the mountain and the sands.
Some pious priests inhabit there,
And for this task alone they live,
With loving zeal to freely give
The helping hand, the strengthening prayer --
Confession, and the Holy Mass,
And every needful help to all who thither pass.
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