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Allan Quatermain-Part31_H.Rider Haggard(1856-1925)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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the gates of Milosis with our heads.

But first he determined, as I learned, to make one more attempt



and to demand the hand of Nyleptha in the open Court after the

formal annualceremony of the signing of the laws that had been



proclaimed by the Queens during the year.

Of this astounding fact Nyleptha heard with simulated nonchalance,



and with a little trembling of the voice herself informed us

of it as we sat at supper on the night preceding the great ceremony



of the law-giving.

Sir Henry bit his lip, and do what he could to prevent it plainly



showed his agitation.

'And what answer will the Queen be pleased to give to the



great Lord?' asked I, in a jesting manner.

'Answer, Macumazahn' (for we had elected to pass by our Zulu



names in Zu-Vendis), she said, with a pretty shrug of her ivory

shoulder. 'Nay, I know not; what is a poor woman to do, when



the wooer has thirty thousand swords wherewith to urge his love?'

And from under her long lashes she glanced at Curtis.



Just then we rose from the table to adjourn into another room.

'Quatermain, a word, quick,' said Sir Henry to me. 'Listen.



I have never spoken about it, but surely you have guessed: I

love Nyleptha. What am I to do?'



Fortunately, I had more or less already taken the question into

consideration, and was therefore able to give such answer as



seemed the wisest to me.

'You must speak to Nyleptha tonight,' I said. 'Now is your time,



now or never. Listen. In the sitting-chamber get near to her,

and whisper to her to meet you at midnight by the Rademas statue



at the end of the great hall. I will keep watch for you there.

Now or never, Curtis.'



We passed on into the other room. Nyleptha was sitting, her

hands before her, and a sad anxious look upon her lovely face.



A little way off was Sorais talking to Good in her slow measured

tones.



The time went on; in another quarter of an hour I knew that,

according to their habit, the Queens would retire. As yet, Sir



Henry had had no chance of saying a word in private: indeed,

though we saw much of the royal sisters, it was by no means easy



to see them alone. I racked my brains, and at last an idea came

to me.



'Will the Queen be pleased,' I said, bowing low before Sorais,

'to sing to her servants? Our hearts are heavy this night; sing



to us, oh Lady of the Night' (Sorais' favourite name among the

people).



'My songs, Macumazahn, are not such as to lighten the heavy heart,

yet will I sing if it pleases thee,' she answered; and she rose



and went a few paces to a table whereon lay an instrument not

unlike a zither, and struck a few wandering chords.



Then suddenly, like the notes of some deep-throated bird, her

rounded voice rang out in song so wildly sweet, and yet with



so eerie and sad a refrain, that it made the very blood stand

still. Up, up soared the golden notes, that seemed to melt far



away, and then to grow again and travel on, laden with all the

sorrow of the world and all the despair of the lost. It was



a marvellous song, but I had not time to listen to it properly.

However, I got the words of it afterwards, and here is a translation



of its burden, so far as it admits of being translated at all.

SORAIS' SONG



As a desolate bird that through darkness its lost way is winging,

As a hand that is helplessly raised when Death's sickle is swinging,



So is life! ay, the life that lends passion and breath to my singing.

As the nightingale's song that is full of a sweetness unspoken,



As a spirit unbarring the gates of the skies for a token,

So is love! ay, the love that shall fall when his pinion is broken.



As the tramp of the legions when trumpets their challenge are sending,

As the shout of the Storm-god when lightnings the black sky are rending,



So is power! ay, the power that shall lie in the dust at its ending.

So short is our life; yet with space for all things to forsake us,






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