The Colloquy of Monos and Una
Μελλοϖτα ταϖτα
"These things are in the future."
Monos. Yes, fairest and best beloved Una, "born again." These were the words upon
whose mystical meaning I had so long pondered, rejecting the explanations of the
priesthood, until Death himself resolved for me the secret.
Monos. How strangely, sweet Una, you echo my words! I observe, too, a vacillation in
your step --- a joyous inquietude in your eyes. You are confused and oppressed by the
majestic novelty of the Life Eternal. Yes, it was of Death I spoke. And here how
singularly sounds that word which of old was wont to bring terror to all hearts ---
throwing a mildew upon all pleasures!
Una. Ah, Death, the spectre which sate at all feasts! How often, Monos, did we lose
ourselves in speculations upon its nature! How mysteriously did it act as a check to
human bliss --- saying unto it "thus far, and no farther!" That earnest mutual love, my
own Monos, which burned within our bosoms --- how vainly did we flatter ourselves,
feeling happy in its first up springing, that our happiness would strengthen with its
strength! Alas! as it grew, so grew in our hearts the dread of that evil hour which was
hurrying to separate us forever! Thus, in time, it became painful to love. Hate would have
been mercy then.
Monos. Speak not here of these griefs, dear Una --- mine, mine forever now!
Una. But the memory of past sorrow --- is it not present joy? I have much to say yet of
the things which have been. Above all, I burn to know the incidents of your own passage
through the dark Valley and Shadow.
Monos. And when did the radiant Una ask anything of her Monos in vain? I will be
minute in relating all --- but at what point shall the weird narrative begin?
Una. Monos, I comprehend you. In Death we have both learned the propensity of man
to define the indefinable. I will not say, then, commence with the moment of life's
cessation --- but commence with that sad, sad instant when, the fever having abandoned
