72
(Curtain rises.)
Opora:
Once more the dawn's recurrent miracle!
Cloudless, save for one little cloud that seems
A rout of rose leaves blown across the sky,
Above the vineyards of Mount Silpius.
The world, dawn-dewy, is a world made new,
And Beauty's self seems rising from the sea,
Born from the Sun's caressing of the wave.
Whilst, as the light strikes thwart across his fane
The shadow of the Golden God withdraws.
Only a fallen blossom testifies
To last night's tempest.
Themistius.(Raising his hand to the Image of Apollo):
Helios, Radiant King,
Paian, befriend us in that last, worst, wind
That darkest night, that most distracting storm
Which some day blows for all who sail this sea.
