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And the cold smile upon the foeman’s face.

Calum. Oh Ian, Ian, will you not remember
The poor feet that the nails were driven through,
The piercèd hands and the spear-riven side,
And the heroic brow false-crowned with thorns?

Ian. The night is ending. With the day will come
The memory that dreamers may forget,
But I will yet dream on a little while,
Before day claims me for its own again,
And the soft fetters close about my soul.
[Looking round.
Am I awake, and you that bade me dream
Bid me remember in the eye of day?
Is there an end of the new heaven and hell,
And all save earth and the immortal isle,
They used to tell of in the olden times?
[Sinks down.
I have been dreaming, as I dream alone
In the dim nights; but after them the day
Brings back to me anew the face of Christ.
I am afraid of this new dawn that brings
No Christ, but memories of older things.

END OF ACT I

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