_Aibric._ When they have twenty years; in middle life They take a kiss for what a kiss is worth, And let the dream go by. _Forgael._ It’s not a dream, But the reality that makes our passion As a lamp shadow—no—no lamp, the sun. What the world’s million lips are thirsting for, Must be substantial somewhere. _Aibric._ I have heard the Druids Mutter such things as they awake from trance. It may be that the dead have lit upon it, Or those that never lived; no mortal can. _Forgael._ I only of all living men shall find it. _Aibric._ Then seek it in the habitable world, Or leap into that sea and end a journey That has no other end. _Forgael._ I cannot answer. I can see nothing plain; all’s mystery. Yet, sometimes there’s a torch inside my head That makes all clear, but when the light is gone I have but images, analogies, The mystic bread, the sacramental wine, The red rose where the two shafts of the cross, Body and soul, waking and sleep, death, life, Whatever meaning ancient allegorists Have settled on, are mixed into one joy. For what’s the rose but that? miraculous cries, Old stories about mystic marriages, Impossible truths? But when the torch is lit All that is impossible is certain, I plunge in the abyss. [Sailors _come in_.] _First Sailor._ Look there! There in the mist! A ship of spices. _Second Sailor._ We would not have noticed her but for the sweet smell through the air. Ambergris and sandalwood, and all the herbs the witches bring from the sunrise. _First Sailor._ No; but opoponax and cinnamon. _Forgael_ [_taking the tiller from AIBRIC_]. The ever-living have kept my bargain; they have paid you on the nail. _Aibric._ Take up that rope to make her fast while we are plundering her. _First Sailor._ There is a king on her deck, and a queen. Where there is one woman it is certain there will be others. _Aibric._ Speak lower or they’ll hear. _First Sailor._ They cannot hear; they are too much taken up with one another. Look! he has stooped down and kissed her on the lips. _Second Sailor._ When she finds out we have as good men aboard she may not be too sorry in the end. _First Sailor._ She will be as dangerous as a wild cat. These queens think more of the riches and the great name they get by marriage than of a ready hand and a strong body. _Second Sailor._ There is nobody is natural but a robber. That is the reason the whole world goes tottering about upon its bandy legs. _Aibric._ Run upon them now, and overpower the crew while yet asleep. [Sailors _and AIBRIC go out_. _The clashing of swords and confused voices are heard from the other ship, which cannot be seen because of the sail._