Beatrice | Page 3

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Etext prepared by John Bickers, [email protected] and Dagny,
[email protected]

BEATRICE
by H. Rider Haggard

First Published in 1893.

TO
BEATRICE

"Oh, kind is Death that Life's long trouble closes, Yet at Death's
coming Life shrinks back affright; It sees the dark hand,--not that it
encloses A cup of light.
So oft the Spirit seeing Love draw nigh As 'neath the shadow of
destruction, quakes, For Self, dark tyrant of the Soul, must die, When
Love awakes.
Aye, let him die in darkness! But for thee,-- Breathe thou the breath of
morning and be free!"
Rückert. Translated by F. W. B.

BEATRICE

CHAPTER I
A MIST WRAITH
The autumn afternoon was fading into evening. It had been cloudy
weather, but the clouds had softened and broken up. Now they were
lost in slowly darkening blue. The sea was perfectly and utterly still. It
seemed to sleep, but in its sleep it still waxed with the rising tide. The
eye could not mark its slow increase, but Beatrice, standing upon the
farthest point of the Dog Rocks, idly noted that the long brown