_Lioni_. Nought, save sleep, Which will not be commanded. Let me hope it, [_Exit_ ANTONIO. Though my breast feels too anxious; I will try Whether the air will calm my spirits: 'tis A goodly night; the cloudy wind which blew From the Levant hath crept into its cave, And the broad Moon hath brightened. What a stillness! [_Goes to an open lattice_. And what a contrast with the scene I left, Where the tall torches' glare, and silver lamps' More pallid gleam along the tapestried walls, 30 Spread over the reluctant gloom which haunts Those vast and dimly-latticed galleries A dazzling mass of artificial light, Which showed all things, but nothing as they were. There Age essaying to recall the past, After long striving for the hues of Youth At the sad labour of the toilet, and Full many a glance at the too faithful mirror, Pranked forth in all the pride of ornament, Forgot itself, and trusting to the falsehood 40 Of the indulgent beams, which show, yet hide, Believed itself forgotten, and was fooled. There Youth, which needed not, nor thought of such Vain adjuncts, lavished its true bloom, and health, And bridal beauty, in the unwholesome press Of flushed and crowded wassailers, and wasted Its hours of rest in dreaming this was pleasure, And so shall waste them till the sunrise streams On sallow cheeks and sunken eyes, which should not Have worn this aspect yet for many a year.[432] 50 The music, and the banquet, and the wine, The garlands, the rose odours, and the flowers, The sparkling eyes, and flashing ornaments, The white arms and the raven hair, the braids And bracelets; swanlike bosoms, and the necklace, An India in itself, yet dazzling not The eye like what it circled; the thin robes, Floating like light clouds 'twixt our gaze and heaven; The many-twinkling feet so small and sylphlike, Suggesting the more secret symmetry[ed] 60 Of the fair forms which terminate so well-- All the delusion of the dizzy scene, Its false and true enchantments--Art and Nature, Which swam before my giddy eyes, that drank The sight of beauty as the parched pilgrim's On Arab sands the false mirage, which offers A lucid lake to his eluded thirst, Are gone. Around me are the stars and waters-- Worlds mirrored in the Ocean, goodlier sight[ee] Than torches glared back by a gaudy glass; 70 And the great Element, which is to space What Ocean is to Earth, spreads its blue depths, Softened with the first breathings of the spring; The high Moon sails upon her beauteous way, Serenely smoothing o'er the lofty walls