Mildred'sChamber. A painted window overlooks the Park.MildredandGuendolen.Guen.Now, Mildred, spare those pains. I have not leftOur talkers in the library, and climbedThe wearisome ascent to this your bowerIn company with you,—I have not dared ...Nay, worked such prodigies as sparing youLord Mertoun's pedigree before the flood,Which Thorold seemed in very act to tell—Or bringing Austin to pluck up that mostFirm-rooted heresy—your suitor's eyes,He would maintain, were gray instead of blue—I think I brought him to contrition!—Well,I have not done such things, (all to deserveA minute's quiet cousins' talk with you,)To be dismissed so coolly!Mildred.Guendolen!What have I done? what could suggest ...Guen.There, there!Do I not comprehend you 'd be aloneTo throw those testimonies in a heap,Thorold's enlargings, Austin's brevities,With that poor silly heartless Guendolen'sIll-timed misplaced attempted smartnesses—And sift their sense out? now, I come to spare youNearly a whole night's labor. Ask and have!Demand, be answered! Lack I ears and eyes?Am I perplexed which side of the rock-tableThe Conqueror dined on when he landed first,Lord Mertoun's ancestor was bidden take—The bow-hand or the arrow-hand's great meed?Mildred, the Earl has soft blue eyes!Mil.My brother—Did he ... you said that he received him well?Guen.If I said only "well" I said not much.Oh, stay—which brother?Mil.Thorold! who—who else?Guen.Thorold (a secret) is too proud by half,—Nay, hear me out—with us he 's even gentlerThan we are with our birds. Of this great HouseThe least retainer that e'er caught his glanceWould die for him, real dying—no mere talk:And in the world, the court, if men would citeThe perfect spirit of honor, Thorold's nameRises of its clear nature to their lips.But he should take men's homage, trust in it,And care no more about what drew it down.He has desert, and that, acknowledgment;Is he content?Mil.You wrong him, Guendolen.Guen.He 's proud, confess; so proud with brooding o'erThe light of his interminable line,An ancestry with men all paladins,And women all ...Mil.Dear Guendolen, 't is late!When yonder purple pane the climbing moonPierces, I know 't is midnight.Guen.Well, that ThoroldShould rise up from such musings, and receiveOne come audaciously to graft himselfInto this peerless stock, yet find no flaw,No slightest spot in such an one ...Mil.Who findsA spot in Mertoun?Guen.Not your brother; therefore,Not the whole world.Mil.I am weary, Guendolen.Bear with me!Guen.I am foolish.Mil.Oh no, kind!But I would rest.Guen.Good night and rest to you!I said how gracefully his mantle layBeneath the rings of his light hair?Mil.Brown hair.Guen.Brown? why, itisbrown: how could you know that?Mil.How? did not you—Oh, Austin 't was declaredHis hair was light, not brown—my head!—and look,The moon-beam purpling the dark chamber! Sweet,Good night!Guen.Forgive me—sleep the soundlier for me![Going, she turns suddenly.Mildred!Perdition! all 's discovered! Thorold finds—That the Earl's greatest of all grandmothersWas grander daughter still—to that fair dameWhose garter slipped down at the famous dance![Goes.Mil.Is she—can she be really gone at last?My heart! I shall not reach the window. NeedsMust I have sinned much, so to suffer!She lifts the small lamp which is suspended before the Virgin's image in the window, and places it by the purple pane.There![She returns to the seat in front.Mildred and Mertoun! Mildred, with consentOf all the world and Thorold, Mertoun's bride!Too late! 'T is sweet to think of, sweeter stillTo hope for, that this blessed end soothes upThe curse of the beginning; but I knowIt comes too late: 't will sweetest be of allTo dream my soul away and die upon.[A noise without.The voice! Oh why, why glided sin the snakeInto the paradise Heaven meant us both?[The window opens softly. A low voice sings.There 's a woman like a dew-drop, she 's so purer than the purest;And her noble heart 's the noblest, yes, and her sure faith 's the surest:And her eyes are dark and humid, like the depth on depth of lustreHid i' the harebell, while her tresses, sunnier than the wild-grape cluster,Gush in golden-tinted plenty down her neck's rose-misted marble:Then her voice's music ... call it the well's bubbling, the bird's warble![A figure wrapped in a mantle appears at the window.And this woman says, "My days were sunless and my nights were moonless,Parched the pleasant April herbage, and the lark's heart's outbreak tuneless,If you loved me not!" And I who—(ah, for words of flame!) adore her,Who am mad to lay my spirit prostrate palpably before her—[He enters, approaches her seat, and bends over her.I may enter at her portal soon, as now her lattice takes me,And by noontide as by midnight make her mine, as hers she makes me![TheEarlthrows off his slouched hat and long cloak.My very heart sings, so I sing, Beloved!Mil.Sit, Henry—do not take my hand!Mer.'T is mine.The meeting that appalled us both so muchIs ended.Mil.What begins now?Mer.HappinessSuch as the world contains not.Mil.That is it.Our happiness would, as you say, exceedThe whole world's best of blisses: we—do weDeserve that? Utter to your soul, what mineLong since, Beloved, has grown used to hear,Like a death-knell, so much regarded once,And so familiar now; this will not be!Mer.Oh, Mildred, have I met your brother's face?Compelled myself—if not to speak untruth,Yet to disguise, to shun, to put asideThe truth, as—what had e'er prevailed on meSave you, to venture? Have I gained at lastYour brother, the one scarer of your dreams,And waking thoughts' sole apprehension too?Does a new life, like a young sunrise, breakOn the strange unrest of our night, confusedWith rain and stormy flaw—and will you seeNo dripping blossoms, no fire-tinted dropsOn each live spray, no vapor steaming up,And no expressless glory in the East?When I am by you, to be ever by you,When I have won you and may worship you,Oh, Mildred, can you say "this will not be"?Mil.Sin has surprised us, so will punishment.Mer.No—me alone, who sinned alone!Mil.The nightYou likened our past life to—was it stormThroughout to you then, Henry?Mer.Of your lifeI spoke—what am I, what my life, to wasteA thought about when you are by me?—youIt was, I said my folly called the stormAnd pulled the night upon. 'T was day with me—Perpetual dawn with me.Mil.Come what come will,You have been happy; take my hand!Mer.[After a pause.]How goodYour brother is! I figured him a cold—Shall I say, haughty man?Mil.They told me all.I know all.Mer.It will soon be over.Mil.Over?Oh, what is over? what must I live throughAnd say, "'t is over"? Is our meeting over?Have I received in presence of them allThe partner of my guilty love—with browTrying to seem a maiden's brow—with lipsWhich make believe that when they strive to formReplies to you and tremble as they strive,It is the nearest ever they approachedA stranger's ... Henry, yours that stranger's ... lip—With cheek that looks a virgin's, and that is ...Ah God, some prodigy of thine will stopThis planned piece of deliberate wickednessIn its birth even! some fierce leprous spotWill mar the brow's dissimulating! IShall murmur no smooth speeches got by heart,But, frenzied, pour forth all our woeful story,The love, the shame, and the despair—with themRound me aghast as round some cursed fountThat should spirt water, and spouts blood. I'll not... Henry, you do not wish that I should drawThis vengeance down? I 'll not affect a graceThat 's gone from me—gone once, and gone forever!Mer.Mildred, my honor is your own. I 'll shareDisgrace I cannot suffer by myself.A word informs your brother I retractThis morning's offer; time will yet bring forthSome better way of saving both of us.Mil.I'll meet their faces, Henry!Mer.When? to-morrow!Get done with it!Mil.Oh, Henry, not to-morrow!Next day! I never shall prepare my wordsAnd looks and gestures sooner.—How you mustDespise me!Mer.Mildred, break it if you choose,A heart the love of you uplifted—stillUplifts, through this protracted agony,To heaven! but, Mildred, answer me,—first paceThe chamber with me—once again—now, sayCalmly the part, the ... what it is of meYou see contempt (for you did say contempt)—Contempt for you in! I would pluck it offAnd cast it from me!—but no—no, you 'll notRepeat that?—will you, Mildred, repeat that?Mil.Dear Henry!Mer.I was scarce a boy—e'en nowWhat am I more? And you were infantineWhen first I met you; why, your hair fell looseOn either side! My fool's-cheek reddens nowOnly in the recalling how it burnedThat morn to see the shape of many a dream—You know we boys are prodigal of charmsTo her we dream of—I had heard of one,Had dreamed of her, and I was close to her,Might speak to her, might live and die her own,Who knew? I spoke. Oh, Mildred, feel you notThat now, while I remember every glanceOf yours, each word of yours, with power to testAnd weigh them in the diamond scales of pride,Resolved the treasure of a first and lastHeart's love shall have been bartered at its worth,—That now I think upon your purityAnd utter ignorance of guilt—your ownOr other's guilt—the girlish undisguisedDelight at a strange novel prize—(I talkA silly language, but interpret, you!)If I, with fancy at its full, and reasonScarce in its germ, enjoined you secrecy,If you had pity on my passion, pityOn my protested sickness of the soulTo sit beside you, hear you breathe, and watchYour eyelids and the eyes beneath—if youAccorded gifts and knew not they were gifts—If I grew mad at last with enterpriseAnd must behold my beauty in her bowerOr perish—(I was ignorant of evenMy own desires—what then were you?) if sorrow—Sin—if the end came—must I now renounceMy reason, blind myself to light, say truthIs false and lie to God and my own soul?Contempt were all of this!Mil.Do you believe ...Or, Henry, I 'll not wrong you—you believeThat I was ignorant. I scarce grieve o'erThe past! We 'll love on; you will love me still!Mer.Oh, to love less what one has injured! Dove,Whose pinion I have rashly hurt, my breast—Shall my heart's warmth not nurse thee into strength?Flower I have crushed, shall I not care for thee?Bloom o'er my crest, my fight-mark and device!Mildred, I love you and you love me!Mil.Go!Be that your last word. I shall sleep to-night.Mer.This is not our last meeting?Mil.One night more.Mer.And then—think, then!Mil.Then, no sweet courtship-days,No dawning consciousness of love for us,No strange and palpitating births of senseFrom words and looks, no innocent fears and hopes,Reserves and confidences: morning's over!Mer.How else should love's perfected noontide follow?All the dawn promised shall the day perform.Mil.So may it be! but—You are cautious, Love?Are sure that unobserved you scaled the walls?Mer.Oh, trust me! Then our final meeting 's fixedTo-morrow night?Mil.Farewell! Stay, Henry ... wherefore?His foot is on the yew-tree bough: the turfReceives him: now the moonlight as he runsEmbraces him—but he must go—is gone.Ah, once again he turns—thanks, thanks, my Love!He's gone. Oh, I 'll believe him every word!I was so young, I loved him so, I hadNo mother, God forgot me, and I fell.There may be pardon yet: all 's doubt beyond.Surely the bitterness of death is past!
Mildred'sChamber. A painted window overlooks the Park.MildredandGuendolen.Guen.Now, Mildred, spare those pains. I have not leftOur talkers in the library, and climbedThe wearisome ascent to this your bowerIn company with you,—I have not dared ...Nay, worked such prodigies as sparing youLord Mertoun's pedigree before the flood,Which Thorold seemed in very act to tell—Or bringing Austin to pluck up that mostFirm-rooted heresy—your suitor's eyes,He would maintain, were gray instead of blue—I think I brought him to contrition!—Well,I have not done such things, (all to deserveA minute's quiet cousins' talk with you,)To be dismissed so coolly!Mildred.Guendolen!What have I done? what could suggest ...Guen.There, there!Do I not comprehend you 'd be aloneTo throw those testimonies in a heap,Thorold's enlargings, Austin's brevities,With that poor silly heartless Guendolen'sIll-timed misplaced attempted smartnesses—And sift their sense out? now, I come to spare youNearly a whole night's labor. Ask and have!Demand, be answered! Lack I ears and eyes?Am I perplexed which side of the rock-tableThe Conqueror dined on when he landed first,Lord Mertoun's ancestor was bidden take—The bow-hand or the arrow-hand's great meed?Mildred, the Earl has soft blue eyes!Mil.My brother—Did he ... you said that he received him well?Guen.If I said only "well" I said not much.Oh, stay—which brother?Mil.Thorold! who—who else?Guen.Thorold (a secret) is too proud by half,—Nay, hear me out—with us he 's even gentlerThan we are with our birds. Of this great HouseThe least retainer that e'er caught his glanceWould die for him, real dying—no mere talk:And in the world, the court, if men would citeThe perfect spirit of honor, Thorold's nameRises of its clear nature to their lips.But he should take men's homage, trust in it,And care no more about what drew it down.He has desert, and that, acknowledgment;Is he content?Mil.You wrong him, Guendolen.Guen.He 's proud, confess; so proud with brooding o'erThe light of his interminable line,An ancestry with men all paladins,And women all ...Mil.Dear Guendolen, 't is late!When yonder purple pane the climbing moonPierces, I know 't is midnight.Guen.Well, that ThoroldShould rise up from such musings, and receiveOne come audaciously to graft himselfInto this peerless stock, yet find no flaw,No slightest spot in such an one ...Mil.Who findsA spot in Mertoun?Guen.Not your brother; therefore,Not the whole world.Mil.I am weary, Guendolen.Bear with me!Guen.I am foolish.Mil.Oh no, kind!But I would rest.Guen.Good night and rest to you!I said how gracefully his mantle layBeneath the rings of his light hair?Mil.Brown hair.Guen.Brown? why, itisbrown: how could you know that?Mil.How? did not you—Oh, Austin 't was declaredHis hair was light, not brown—my head!—and look,The moon-beam purpling the dark chamber! Sweet,Good night!Guen.Forgive me—sleep the soundlier for me![Going, she turns suddenly.Mildred!Perdition! all 's discovered! Thorold finds—That the Earl's greatest of all grandmothersWas grander daughter still—to that fair dameWhose garter slipped down at the famous dance![Goes.Mil.Is she—can she be really gone at last?My heart! I shall not reach the window. NeedsMust I have sinned much, so to suffer!She lifts the small lamp which is suspended before the Virgin's image in the window, and places it by the purple pane.There![She returns to the seat in front.Mildred and Mertoun! Mildred, with consentOf all the world and Thorold, Mertoun's bride!Too late! 'T is sweet to think of, sweeter stillTo hope for, that this blessed end soothes upThe curse of the beginning; but I knowIt comes too late: 't will sweetest be of allTo dream my soul away and die upon.[A noise without.The voice! Oh why, why glided sin the snakeInto the paradise Heaven meant us both?[The window opens softly. A low voice sings.There 's a woman like a dew-drop, she 's so purer than the purest;And her noble heart 's the noblest, yes, and her sure faith 's the surest:And her eyes are dark and humid, like the depth on depth of lustreHid i' the harebell, while her tresses, sunnier than the wild-grape cluster,Gush in golden-tinted plenty down her neck's rose-misted marble:Then her voice's music ... call it the well's bubbling, the bird's warble![A figure wrapped in a mantle appears at the window.And this woman says, "My days were sunless and my nights were moonless,Parched the pleasant April herbage, and the lark's heart's outbreak tuneless,If you loved me not!" And I who—(ah, for words of flame!) adore her,Who am mad to lay my spirit prostrate palpably before her—[He enters, approaches her seat, and bends over her.I may enter at her portal soon, as now her lattice takes me,And by noontide as by midnight make her mine, as hers she makes me![TheEarlthrows off his slouched hat and long cloak.My very heart sings, so I sing, Beloved!Mil.Sit, Henry—do not take my hand!Mer.'T is mine.The meeting that appalled us both so muchIs ended.Mil.What begins now?Mer.HappinessSuch as the world contains not.Mil.That is it.Our happiness would, as you say, exceedThe whole world's best of blisses: we—do weDeserve that? Utter to your soul, what mineLong since, Beloved, has grown used to hear,Like a death-knell, so much regarded once,And so familiar now; this will not be!Mer.Oh, Mildred, have I met your brother's face?Compelled myself—if not to speak untruth,Yet to disguise, to shun, to put asideThe truth, as—what had e'er prevailed on meSave you, to venture? Have I gained at lastYour brother, the one scarer of your dreams,And waking thoughts' sole apprehension too?Does a new life, like a young sunrise, breakOn the strange unrest of our night, confusedWith rain and stormy flaw—and will you seeNo dripping blossoms, no fire-tinted dropsOn each live spray, no vapor steaming up,And no expressless glory in the East?When I am by you, to be ever by you,When I have won you and may worship you,Oh, Mildred, can you say "this will not be"?Mil.Sin has surprised us, so will punishment.Mer.No—me alone, who sinned alone!Mil.The nightYou likened our past life to—was it stormThroughout to you then, Henry?Mer.Of your lifeI spoke—what am I, what my life, to wasteA thought about when you are by me?—youIt was, I said my folly called the stormAnd pulled the night upon. 'T was day with me—Perpetual dawn with me.Mil.Come what come will,You have been happy; take my hand!Mer.[After a pause.]How goodYour brother is! I figured him a cold—Shall I say, haughty man?Mil.They told me all.I know all.Mer.It will soon be over.Mil.Over?Oh, what is over? what must I live throughAnd say, "'t is over"? Is our meeting over?Have I received in presence of them allThe partner of my guilty love—with browTrying to seem a maiden's brow—with lipsWhich make believe that when they strive to formReplies to you and tremble as they strive,It is the nearest ever they approachedA stranger's ... Henry, yours that stranger's ... lip—With cheek that looks a virgin's, and that is ...Ah God, some prodigy of thine will stopThis planned piece of deliberate wickednessIn its birth even! some fierce leprous spotWill mar the brow's dissimulating! IShall murmur no smooth speeches got by heart,But, frenzied, pour forth all our woeful story,The love, the shame, and the despair—with themRound me aghast as round some cursed fountThat should spirt water, and spouts blood. I'll not... Henry, you do not wish that I should drawThis vengeance down? I 'll not affect a graceThat 's gone from me—gone once, and gone forever!Mer.Mildred, my honor is your own. I 'll shareDisgrace I cannot suffer by myself.A word informs your brother I retractThis morning's offer; time will yet bring forthSome better way of saving both of us.Mil.I'll meet their faces, Henry!Mer.When? to-morrow!Get done with it!Mil.Oh, Henry, not to-morrow!Next day! I never shall prepare my wordsAnd looks and gestures sooner.—How you mustDespise me!Mer.Mildred, break it if you choose,A heart the love of you uplifted—stillUplifts, through this protracted agony,To heaven! but, Mildred, answer me,—first paceThe chamber with me—once again—now, sayCalmly the part, the ... what it is of meYou see contempt (for you did say contempt)—Contempt for you in! I would pluck it offAnd cast it from me!—but no—no, you 'll notRepeat that?—will you, Mildred, repeat that?Mil.Dear Henry!Mer.I was scarce a boy—e'en nowWhat am I more? And you were infantineWhen first I met you; why, your hair fell looseOn either side! My fool's-cheek reddens nowOnly in the recalling how it burnedThat morn to see the shape of many a dream—You know we boys are prodigal of charmsTo her we dream of—I had heard of one,Had dreamed of her, and I was close to her,Might speak to her, might live and die her own,Who knew? I spoke. Oh, Mildred, feel you notThat now, while I remember every glanceOf yours, each word of yours, with power to testAnd weigh them in the diamond scales of pride,Resolved the treasure of a first and lastHeart's love shall have been bartered at its worth,—That now I think upon your purityAnd utter ignorance of guilt—your ownOr other's guilt—the girlish undisguisedDelight at a strange novel prize—(I talkA silly language, but interpret, you!)If I, with fancy at its full, and reasonScarce in its germ, enjoined you secrecy,If you had pity on my passion, pityOn my protested sickness of the soulTo sit beside you, hear you breathe, and watchYour eyelids and the eyes beneath—if youAccorded gifts and knew not they were gifts—If I grew mad at last with enterpriseAnd must behold my beauty in her bowerOr perish—(I was ignorant of evenMy own desires—what then were you?) if sorrow—Sin—if the end came—must I now renounceMy reason, blind myself to light, say truthIs false and lie to God and my own soul?Contempt were all of this!Mil.Do you believe ...Or, Henry, I 'll not wrong you—you believeThat I was ignorant. I scarce grieve o'erThe past! We 'll love on; you will love me still!Mer.Oh, to love less what one has injured! Dove,Whose pinion I have rashly hurt, my breast—Shall my heart's warmth not nurse thee into strength?Flower I have crushed, shall I not care for thee?Bloom o'er my crest, my fight-mark and device!Mildred, I love you and you love me!Mil.Go!Be that your last word. I shall sleep to-night.Mer.This is not our last meeting?Mil.One night more.Mer.And then—think, then!Mil.Then, no sweet courtship-days,No dawning consciousness of love for us,No strange and palpitating births of senseFrom words and looks, no innocent fears and hopes,Reserves and confidences: morning's over!Mer.How else should love's perfected noontide follow?All the dawn promised shall the day perform.Mil.So may it be! but—You are cautious, Love?Are sure that unobserved you scaled the walls?Mer.Oh, trust me! Then our final meeting 's fixedTo-morrow night?Mil.Farewell! Stay, Henry ... wherefore?His foot is on the yew-tree bough: the turfReceives him: now the moonlight as he runsEmbraces him—but he must go—is gone.Ah, once again he turns—thanks, thanks, my Love!He's gone. Oh, I 'll believe him every word!I was so young, I loved him so, I hadNo mother, God forgot me, and I fell.There may be pardon yet: all 's doubt beyond.Surely the bitterness of death is past!
Mildred'sChamber. A painted window overlooks the Park.MildredandGuendolen.
Mildred'sChamber. A painted window overlooks the Park.MildredandGuendolen.
Guen.Now, Mildred, spare those pains. I have not leftOur talkers in the library, and climbedThe wearisome ascent to this your bowerIn company with you,—I have not dared ...Nay, worked such prodigies as sparing youLord Mertoun's pedigree before the flood,Which Thorold seemed in very act to tell—Or bringing Austin to pluck up that mostFirm-rooted heresy—your suitor's eyes,He would maintain, were gray instead of blue—I think I brought him to contrition!—Well,I have not done such things, (all to deserveA minute's quiet cousins' talk with you,)To be dismissed so coolly!
Guen.Now, Mildred, spare those pains. I have not left
Our talkers in the library, and climbed
The wearisome ascent to this your bower
In company with you,—I have not dared ...
Nay, worked such prodigies as sparing you
Lord Mertoun's pedigree before the flood,
Which Thorold seemed in very act to tell
—Or bringing Austin to pluck up that most
Firm-rooted heresy—your suitor's eyes,
He would maintain, were gray instead of blue—
I think I brought him to contrition!—Well,
I have not done such things, (all to deserve
A minute's quiet cousins' talk with you,)
To be dismissed so coolly!
Mildred.Guendolen!What have I done? what could suggest ...
Mildred.Guendolen!
What have I done? what could suggest ...
Guen.There, there!Do I not comprehend you 'd be aloneTo throw those testimonies in a heap,Thorold's enlargings, Austin's brevities,With that poor silly heartless Guendolen'sIll-timed misplaced attempted smartnesses—And sift their sense out? now, I come to spare youNearly a whole night's labor. Ask and have!Demand, be answered! Lack I ears and eyes?Am I perplexed which side of the rock-tableThe Conqueror dined on when he landed first,Lord Mertoun's ancestor was bidden take—The bow-hand or the arrow-hand's great meed?Mildred, the Earl has soft blue eyes!
Guen.There, there!
Do I not comprehend you 'd be alone
To throw those testimonies in a heap,
Thorold's enlargings, Austin's brevities,
With that poor silly heartless Guendolen's
Ill-timed misplaced attempted smartnesses—
And sift their sense out? now, I come to spare you
Nearly a whole night's labor. Ask and have!
Demand, be answered! Lack I ears and eyes?
Am I perplexed which side of the rock-table
The Conqueror dined on when he landed first,
Lord Mertoun's ancestor was bidden take—
The bow-hand or the arrow-hand's great meed?
Mildred, the Earl has soft blue eyes!
Mil.My brother—Did he ... you said that he received him well?
Mil.My brother—
Did he ... you said that he received him well?
Guen.If I said only "well" I said not much.Oh, stay—which brother?
Guen.If I said only "well" I said not much.
Oh, stay—which brother?
Mil.Thorold! who—who else?
Mil.Thorold! who—who else?
Guen.Thorold (a secret) is too proud by half,—Nay, hear me out—with us he 's even gentlerThan we are with our birds. Of this great HouseThe least retainer that e'er caught his glanceWould die for him, real dying—no mere talk:And in the world, the court, if men would citeThe perfect spirit of honor, Thorold's nameRises of its clear nature to their lips.But he should take men's homage, trust in it,And care no more about what drew it down.He has desert, and that, acknowledgment;Is he content?
Guen.Thorold (a secret) is too proud by half,—
Nay, hear me out—with us he 's even gentler
Than we are with our birds. Of this great House
The least retainer that e'er caught his glance
Would die for him, real dying—no mere talk:
And in the world, the court, if men would cite
The perfect spirit of honor, Thorold's name
Rises of its clear nature to their lips.
But he should take men's homage, trust in it,
And care no more about what drew it down.
He has desert, and that, acknowledgment;
Is he content?
Mil.You wrong him, Guendolen.
Mil.You wrong him, Guendolen.
Guen.He 's proud, confess; so proud with brooding o'erThe light of his interminable line,An ancestry with men all paladins,And women all ...
Guen.He 's proud, confess; so proud with brooding o'er
The light of his interminable line,
An ancestry with men all paladins,
And women all ...
Mil.Dear Guendolen, 't is late!When yonder purple pane the climbing moonPierces, I know 't is midnight.
Mil.Dear Guendolen, 't is late!
When yonder purple pane the climbing moon
Pierces, I know 't is midnight.
Guen.Well, that ThoroldShould rise up from such musings, and receiveOne come audaciously to graft himselfInto this peerless stock, yet find no flaw,No slightest spot in such an one ...
Guen.Well, that Thorold
Should rise up from such musings, and receive
One come audaciously to graft himself
Into this peerless stock, yet find no flaw,
No slightest spot in such an one ...
Mil.Who findsA spot in Mertoun?
Mil.Who finds
A spot in Mertoun?
Guen.Not your brother; therefore,Not the whole world.
Guen.Not your brother; therefore,
Not the whole world.
Mil.I am weary, Guendolen.Bear with me!
Mil.I am weary, Guendolen.
Bear with me!
Guen.I am foolish.
Guen.I am foolish.
Mil.Oh no, kind!But I would rest.
Mil.Oh no, kind!
But I would rest.
Guen.Good night and rest to you!I said how gracefully his mantle layBeneath the rings of his light hair?
Guen.Good night and rest to you!
I said how gracefully his mantle lay
Beneath the rings of his light hair?
Mil.Brown hair.
Mil.Brown hair.
Guen.Brown? why, itisbrown: how could you know that?
Guen.Brown? why, itisbrown: how could you know that?
Mil.How? did not you—Oh, Austin 't was declaredHis hair was light, not brown—my head!—and look,The moon-beam purpling the dark chamber! Sweet,Good night!
Mil.How? did not you—Oh, Austin 't was declared
His hair was light, not brown—my head!—and look,
The moon-beam purpling the dark chamber! Sweet,
Good night!
Guen.Forgive me—sleep the soundlier for me![Going, she turns suddenly.Mildred!Perdition! all 's discovered! Thorold finds—That the Earl's greatest of all grandmothersWas grander daughter still—to that fair dameWhose garter slipped down at the famous dance![Goes.
Guen.Forgive me—sleep the soundlier for me![Going, she turns suddenly.
Mildred!
Perdition! all 's discovered! Thorold finds
—That the Earl's greatest of all grandmothers
Was grander daughter still—to that fair dame
Whose garter slipped down at the famous dance![Goes.
Mil.Is she—can she be really gone at last?My heart! I shall not reach the window. NeedsMust I have sinned much, so to suffer!
Mil.Is she—can she be really gone at last?
My heart! I shall not reach the window. Needs
Must I have sinned much, so to suffer!
She lifts the small lamp which is suspended before the Virgin's image in the window, and places it by the purple pane.
She lifts the small lamp which is suspended before the Virgin's image in the window, and places it by the purple pane.
There![She returns to the seat in front.Mildred and Mertoun! Mildred, with consentOf all the world and Thorold, Mertoun's bride!Too late! 'T is sweet to think of, sweeter stillTo hope for, that this blessed end soothes upThe curse of the beginning; but I knowIt comes too late: 't will sweetest be of allTo dream my soul away and die upon.[A noise without.The voice! Oh why, why glided sin the snakeInto the paradise Heaven meant us both?[The window opens softly. A low voice sings.
There!
[She returns to the seat in front.
Mildred and Mertoun! Mildred, with consent
Of all the world and Thorold, Mertoun's bride!
Too late! 'T is sweet to think of, sweeter still
To hope for, that this blessed end soothes up
The curse of the beginning; but I know
It comes too late: 't will sweetest be of all
To dream my soul away and die upon.
[A noise without.
The voice! Oh why, why glided sin the snake
Into the paradise Heaven meant us both?
[The window opens softly. A low voice sings.
There 's a woman like a dew-drop, she 's so purer than the purest;And her noble heart 's the noblest, yes, and her sure faith 's the surest:And her eyes are dark and humid, like the depth on depth of lustreHid i' the harebell, while her tresses, sunnier than the wild-grape cluster,Gush in golden-tinted plenty down her neck's rose-misted marble:Then her voice's music ... call it the well's bubbling, the bird's warble!
There 's a woman like a dew-drop, she 's so purer than the purest;
And her noble heart 's the noblest, yes, and her sure faith 's the surest:
And her eyes are dark and humid, like the depth on depth of lustre
Hid i' the harebell, while her tresses, sunnier than the wild-grape cluster,
Gush in golden-tinted plenty down her neck's rose-misted marble:
Then her voice's music ... call it the well's bubbling, the bird's warble!
[A figure wrapped in a mantle appears at the window.
[A figure wrapped in a mantle appears at the window.
And this woman says, "My days were sunless and my nights were moonless,Parched the pleasant April herbage, and the lark's heart's outbreak tuneless,If you loved me not!" And I who—(ah, for words of flame!) adore her,Who am mad to lay my spirit prostrate palpably before her—
And this woman says, "My days were sunless and my nights were moonless,
Parched the pleasant April herbage, and the lark's heart's outbreak tuneless,
If you loved me not!" And I who—(ah, for words of flame!) adore her,
Who am mad to lay my spirit prostrate palpably before her—
[He enters, approaches her seat, and bends over her.
[He enters, approaches her seat, and bends over her.
I may enter at her portal soon, as now her lattice takes me,And by noontide as by midnight make her mine, as hers she makes me!
I may enter at her portal soon, as now her lattice takes me,
And by noontide as by midnight make her mine, as hers she makes me!
[TheEarlthrows off his slouched hat and long cloak.My very heart sings, so I sing, Beloved!
[TheEarlthrows off his slouched hat and long cloak.
My very heart sings, so I sing, Beloved!
Mil.Sit, Henry—do not take my hand!
Mil.Sit, Henry—do not take my hand!
Mer.'T is mine.The meeting that appalled us both so muchIs ended.
Mer.'T is mine.
The meeting that appalled us both so much
Is ended.
Mil.What begins now?
Mil.What begins now?
Mer.HappinessSuch as the world contains not.
Mer.Happiness
Such as the world contains not.
Mil.That is it.Our happiness would, as you say, exceedThe whole world's best of blisses: we—do weDeserve that? Utter to your soul, what mineLong since, Beloved, has grown used to hear,Like a death-knell, so much regarded once,And so familiar now; this will not be!
Mil.That is it.
Our happiness would, as you say, exceed
The whole world's best of blisses: we—do we
Deserve that? Utter to your soul, what mine
Long since, Beloved, has grown used to hear,
Like a death-knell, so much regarded once,
And so familiar now; this will not be!
Mer.Oh, Mildred, have I met your brother's face?Compelled myself—if not to speak untruth,Yet to disguise, to shun, to put asideThe truth, as—what had e'er prevailed on meSave you, to venture? Have I gained at lastYour brother, the one scarer of your dreams,And waking thoughts' sole apprehension too?Does a new life, like a young sunrise, breakOn the strange unrest of our night, confusedWith rain and stormy flaw—and will you seeNo dripping blossoms, no fire-tinted dropsOn each live spray, no vapor steaming up,And no expressless glory in the East?When I am by you, to be ever by you,When I have won you and may worship you,Oh, Mildred, can you say "this will not be"?
Mer.Oh, Mildred, have I met your brother's face?
Compelled myself—if not to speak untruth,
Yet to disguise, to shun, to put aside
The truth, as—what had e'er prevailed on me
Save you, to venture? Have I gained at last
Your brother, the one scarer of your dreams,
And waking thoughts' sole apprehension too?
Does a new life, like a young sunrise, break
On the strange unrest of our night, confused
With rain and stormy flaw—and will you see
No dripping blossoms, no fire-tinted drops
On each live spray, no vapor steaming up,
And no expressless glory in the East?
When I am by you, to be ever by you,
When I have won you and may worship you,
Oh, Mildred, can you say "this will not be"?
Mil.Sin has surprised us, so will punishment.
Mil.Sin has surprised us, so will punishment.
Mer.No—me alone, who sinned alone!
Mer.No—me alone, who sinned alone!
Mil.The nightYou likened our past life to—was it stormThroughout to you then, Henry?
Mil.The night
You likened our past life to—was it storm
Throughout to you then, Henry?
Mer.Of your lifeI spoke—what am I, what my life, to wasteA thought about when you are by me?—youIt was, I said my folly called the stormAnd pulled the night upon. 'T was day with me—Perpetual dawn with me.
Mer.Of your life
I spoke—what am I, what my life, to waste
A thought about when you are by me?—you
It was, I said my folly called the storm
And pulled the night upon. 'T was day with me—
Perpetual dawn with me.
Mil.Come what come will,You have been happy; take my hand!
Mil.Come what come will,
You have been happy; take my hand!
Mer.[After a pause.]How goodYour brother is! I figured him a cold—Shall I say, haughty man?
Mer.[After a pause.]How good
Your brother is! I figured him a cold—
Shall I say, haughty man?
Mil.They told me all.I know all.
Mil.They told me all.
I know all.
Mer.It will soon be over.
Mer.It will soon be over.
Mil.Over?Oh, what is over? what must I live throughAnd say, "'t is over"? Is our meeting over?Have I received in presence of them allThe partner of my guilty love—with browTrying to seem a maiden's brow—with lipsWhich make believe that when they strive to formReplies to you and tremble as they strive,It is the nearest ever they approachedA stranger's ... Henry, yours that stranger's ... lip—With cheek that looks a virgin's, and that is ...Ah God, some prodigy of thine will stopThis planned piece of deliberate wickednessIn its birth even! some fierce leprous spotWill mar the brow's dissimulating! IShall murmur no smooth speeches got by heart,But, frenzied, pour forth all our woeful story,The love, the shame, and the despair—with themRound me aghast as round some cursed fountThat should spirt water, and spouts blood. I'll not... Henry, you do not wish that I should drawThis vengeance down? I 'll not affect a graceThat 's gone from me—gone once, and gone forever!
Mil.Over?
Oh, what is over? what must I live through
And say, "'t is over"? Is our meeting over?
Have I received in presence of them all
The partner of my guilty love—with brow
Trying to seem a maiden's brow—with lips
Which make believe that when they strive to form
Replies to you and tremble as they strive,
It is the nearest ever they approached
A stranger's ... Henry, yours that stranger's ... lip—
With cheek that looks a virgin's, and that is ...
Ah God, some prodigy of thine will stop
This planned piece of deliberate wickedness
In its birth even! some fierce leprous spot
Will mar the brow's dissimulating! I
Shall murmur no smooth speeches got by heart,
But, frenzied, pour forth all our woeful story,
The love, the shame, and the despair—with them
Round me aghast as round some cursed fount
That should spirt water, and spouts blood. I'll not
... Henry, you do not wish that I should draw
This vengeance down? I 'll not affect a grace
That 's gone from me—gone once, and gone forever!
Mer.Mildred, my honor is your own. I 'll shareDisgrace I cannot suffer by myself.A word informs your brother I retractThis morning's offer; time will yet bring forthSome better way of saving both of us.
Mer.Mildred, my honor is your own. I 'll share
Disgrace I cannot suffer by myself.
A word informs your brother I retract
This morning's offer; time will yet bring forth
Some better way of saving both of us.
Mil.I'll meet their faces, Henry!
Mil.I'll meet their faces, Henry!
Mer.When? to-morrow!Get done with it!
Mer.When? to-morrow!
Get done with it!
Mil.Oh, Henry, not to-morrow!Next day! I never shall prepare my wordsAnd looks and gestures sooner.—How you mustDespise me!
Mil.Oh, Henry, not to-morrow!
Next day! I never shall prepare my words
And looks and gestures sooner.—How you must
Despise me!
Mer.Mildred, break it if you choose,A heart the love of you uplifted—stillUplifts, through this protracted agony,To heaven! but, Mildred, answer me,—first paceThe chamber with me—once again—now, sayCalmly the part, the ... what it is of meYou see contempt (for you did say contempt)—Contempt for you in! I would pluck it offAnd cast it from me!—but no—no, you 'll notRepeat that?—will you, Mildred, repeat that?
Mer.Mildred, break it if you choose,
A heart the love of you uplifted—still
Uplifts, through this protracted agony,
To heaven! but, Mildred, answer me,—first pace
The chamber with me—once again—now, say
Calmly the part, the ... what it is of me
You see contempt (for you did say contempt)
—Contempt for you in! I would pluck it off
And cast it from me!—but no—no, you 'll not
Repeat that?—will you, Mildred, repeat that?
Mil.Dear Henry!
Mil.Dear Henry!
Mer.I was scarce a boy—e'en nowWhat am I more? And you were infantineWhen first I met you; why, your hair fell looseOn either side! My fool's-cheek reddens nowOnly in the recalling how it burnedThat morn to see the shape of many a dream—You know we boys are prodigal of charmsTo her we dream of—I had heard of one,Had dreamed of her, and I was close to her,Might speak to her, might live and die her own,Who knew? I spoke. Oh, Mildred, feel you notThat now, while I remember every glanceOf yours, each word of yours, with power to testAnd weigh them in the diamond scales of pride,Resolved the treasure of a first and lastHeart's love shall have been bartered at its worth,—That now I think upon your purityAnd utter ignorance of guilt—your ownOr other's guilt—the girlish undisguisedDelight at a strange novel prize—(I talkA silly language, but interpret, you!)If I, with fancy at its full, and reasonScarce in its germ, enjoined you secrecy,If you had pity on my passion, pityOn my protested sickness of the soulTo sit beside you, hear you breathe, and watchYour eyelids and the eyes beneath—if youAccorded gifts and knew not they were gifts—If I grew mad at last with enterpriseAnd must behold my beauty in her bowerOr perish—(I was ignorant of evenMy own desires—what then were you?) if sorrow—Sin—if the end came—must I now renounceMy reason, blind myself to light, say truthIs false and lie to God and my own soul?Contempt were all of this!
Mer.I was scarce a boy—e'en now
What am I more? And you were infantine
When first I met you; why, your hair fell loose
On either side! My fool's-cheek reddens now
Only in the recalling how it burned
That morn to see the shape of many a dream
—You know we boys are prodigal of charms
To her we dream of—I had heard of one,
Had dreamed of her, and I was close to her,
Might speak to her, might live and die her own,
Who knew? I spoke. Oh, Mildred, feel you not
That now, while I remember every glance
Of yours, each word of yours, with power to test
And weigh them in the diamond scales of pride,
Resolved the treasure of a first and last
Heart's love shall have been bartered at its worth,
—That now I think upon your purity
And utter ignorance of guilt—your own
Or other's guilt—the girlish undisguised
Delight at a strange novel prize—(I talk
A silly language, but interpret, you!)
If I, with fancy at its full, and reason
Scarce in its germ, enjoined you secrecy,
If you had pity on my passion, pity
On my protested sickness of the soul
To sit beside you, hear you breathe, and watch
Your eyelids and the eyes beneath—if you
Accorded gifts and knew not they were gifts—
If I grew mad at last with enterprise
And must behold my beauty in her bower
Or perish—(I was ignorant of even
My own desires—what then were you?) if sorrow—
Sin—if the end came—must I now renounce
My reason, blind myself to light, say truth
Is false and lie to God and my own soul?
Contempt were all of this!
Mil.Do you believe ...Or, Henry, I 'll not wrong you—you believeThat I was ignorant. I scarce grieve o'erThe past! We 'll love on; you will love me still!
Mil.Do you believe ...
Or, Henry, I 'll not wrong you—you believe
That I was ignorant. I scarce grieve o'er
The past! We 'll love on; you will love me still!
Mer.Oh, to love less what one has injured! Dove,Whose pinion I have rashly hurt, my breast—Shall my heart's warmth not nurse thee into strength?Flower I have crushed, shall I not care for thee?Bloom o'er my crest, my fight-mark and device!Mildred, I love you and you love me!
Mer.Oh, to love less what one has injured! Dove,
Whose pinion I have rashly hurt, my breast—
Shall my heart's warmth not nurse thee into strength?
Flower I have crushed, shall I not care for thee?
Bloom o'er my crest, my fight-mark and device!
Mildred, I love you and you love me!
Mil.Go!Be that your last word. I shall sleep to-night.
Mil.Go!
Be that your last word. I shall sleep to-night.
Mer.This is not our last meeting?
Mer.This is not our last meeting?
Mil.One night more.
Mil.One night more.
Mer.And then—think, then!
Mer.And then—think, then!
Mil.Then, no sweet courtship-days,No dawning consciousness of love for us,No strange and palpitating births of senseFrom words and looks, no innocent fears and hopes,Reserves and confidences: morning's over!
Mil.Then, no sweet courtship-days,
No dawning consciousness of love for us,
No strange and palpitating births of sense
From words and looks, no innocent fears and hopes,
Reserves and confidences: morning's over!
Mer.How else should love's perfected noontide follow?All the dawn promised shall the day perform.
Mer.How else should love's perfected noontide follow?
All the dawn promised shall the day perform.
Mil.So may it be! but—You are cautious, Love?Are sure that unobserved you scaled the walls?
Mil.So may it be! but—
You are cautious, Love?
Are sure that unobserved you scaled the walls?
Mer.Oh, trust me! Then our final meeting 's fixedTo-morrow night?
Mer.Oh, trust me! Then our final meeting 's fixed
To-morrow night?
Mil.Farewell! Stay, Henry ... wherefore?His foot is on the yew-tree bough: the turfReceives him: now the moonlight as he runsEmbraces him—but he must go—is gone.Ah, once again he turns—thanks, thanks, my Love!He's gone. Oh, I 'll believe him every word!I was so young, I loved him so, I hadNo mother, God forgot me, and I fell.There may be pardon yet: all 's doubt beyond.Surely the bitterness of death is past!
Mil.Farewell! Stay, Henry ... wherefore?
His foot is on the yew-tree bough: the turf
Receives him: now the moonlight as he runs
Embraces him—but he must go—is gone.
Ah, once again he turns—thanks, thanks, my Love!
He's gone. Oh, I 'll believe him every word!
I was so young, I loved him so, I had
No mother, God forgot me, and I fell.
There may be pardon yet: all 's doubt beyond.
Surely the bitterness of death is past!
Scene.The Library.EnterLord Tresham,hastily.Tresh.This way! In, Gerard, quick![AsGerardenters,Treshamsecures the door.Now speak! or, wait—I'll bid you speak directly.[Seats himself.Now repeatFirmly and circumstantially the taleYou just now told me; it eludes me; eitherI did not listen, or the half is goneAway from me. How long have you lived here?Here in my house, your father kept our woodsBefore you?Ger.—As his father did, my lord.I have been eating, sixty years almost,Your bread.Tresh.Yes, yes. You ever were of allThe servant in my father's house, I know,The trusted one. You'll speak the truth.Ger.I 'll speakGod's truth. Night after night ...Tresh.Since when?Ger.At leastA month—each midnight has some man accessTo Lady Mildred's chamber.Tresh.Tush, "access"—No wide words like "access" to me!Ger.He runsAlong the woodside, crosses to the south,Takes the left tree that ends the avenue ...Tresh.The last great yew-tree?Ger.You might stand uponThe main boughs like a platform. Then he ...Tresh.Quick!Ger.Climbs up, and, where they lessen at the top,—I cannot see distinctly, but he throws,I think—for this I do not vouch—a lineThat reaches to the lady's casement—Tresh.—WhichHe enters not! Gerard, some wretched foolDares pry into my sister's privacy!When such are young, it seems a precious thingTo have approached,—to merely have approached,Got sight of, the abode of her they setTheir frantic thoughts upon! He does not enter?Gerard?Ger.There is a lamp that 's full i' the midst,Under a red square in the painted glassOf Lady Mildred's ...Tresh.Leave that name out! Well?That lamp?Ger.—Is moved at midnight higher upTo one pane—a small dark-blue pane: he waitsFor that among the boughs: at sight of that,I see him, plain as I see you, my lord,Open the lady's casement, enter there ...Tresh.—And stay?Ger.An hour, two hours.Tresh.And this you sawOnce?—twice?—quick!Ger.Twenty times.Tresh.And what brings youUnder the yew-trees?Ger.The first night I leftMy range so far, to track the stranger stagThat broke the pale, I saw the man.Tresh.Yet sentNo cross-bow shaft through the marauder?Ger.ButHe came, my lord, the first time he was seen,In a great moonlight, light as any day,FromLady Mildred's chamber.Tresh.[After a pause.]You have no cause—Who could have cause to do my sister wrong?Ger.Oh, my lord, only once—let me this onceSpeak what is on my mind! Since first I notedAll this, I've groaned as if a fiery netPlucked me this way and that—fire if I turnedTo her, fire if I turned to you, and fireIf down I flung myself and strove to die.The lady could not have been seven years oldWhen I was trusted to conduct her safeThrough the deer-herd to stroke the snow-white fawnI brought to eat bread from her tiny handWithin a month. She ever had a smileTo greet me with—she ... if it could undoWhat's done, to lop each limb from off this trunk ...All that is foolish talk, not fit for you—I mean, I could not speak and bring her hurtFor Heaven's compelling. But when I was fixedTo hold my peace, each morsel of your foodEaten beneath your roof, my birth-place too,Choked me. I wish I had grown mad in doubtsWhat it behoved me do. This morn it seemedEither I must confess to you, or die:Now it is done, I seem the vilest wormThat crawls, to have betrayed my lady!Tresh.No—No, Gerard!Ger.Let me go!Tresh.A man, you say:What man? Young? Not a vulgar hind? What dress?Ger.A slouched hat and a large dark foreign cloakWraps his whole form; even his face is hid;But I should judge him young: no hind, be sure!Tresh.Why?Ger.He is ever armed: his sword projectsBeneath the cloak.Tresh.Gerard,—I will not sayNo word, no breath of this!Ger.Thanks, thanks, my lord![Goes.Treshampaces the room. After a pause,Oh, thought's absurd!—as with some monstrous factWhich, when ill thoughts beset us, seems to giveMerciful God that made the sun and stars.The waters and the green delights of earth,The lie! I apprehend the monstrous fact—Yet know the maker of all worlds is good,And yield my reason up inadequateTo reconcile what yet I do behold—Blasting my sense! There's cheerful day outside:This is my library, and this the chairMy father used to sit in carelesslyAfter his soldier-fashion, while I stoodBetween his knees to question him: and hereGerard our gray retainer,—as he says,Fed with our food, from sire to son, an age—Has told a story—I am to believe!That Mildred ... oh, no, no! both tales are true,Her pure cheek's story and the forester's!Would she, or could she, err—much less, confoundAll guilts of treachery, of craft, of ... HeavenKeep me within its hand!—I will sit hereUntil thought settle and I see my course.Avert, O God, only this woe from me![As he sinks his head between his arms on the table,Gwendolen'svoice is heard at the door.Lord Tresham![She knocks.]Is Lord Tresham there?[Tresham,hastily turning, pulls down the first book above him and opens it.Tresh.Come in![She enters.Ha, Guendolen!—good morning.Guen.Nothing more?Tresh.What should I say more?Guen.Pleasant question! more?This more. Did I besiege poor Mildred's brainLast night till close on morning with "the Earl,""The Earl"—whose worth did I asseverateTill I am very fain to hope that ... Thorold,What is all this? You are not well!Tresh.Who, I?You laugh at me.Guen.Has what I'm fain to hope,Arrived then? Does that huge tome show some blotIn the Earl's 'scutcheon come no longer backThan Arthur's time?Tresh.When left you Mildred's chamber?Guen.Oh, late enough, I told you! The main thingTo ask is, how I left her chamber,—sure,Content yourself, she'll grant this paragonOf Earls no such ungracious ...Tresh.Send her here!Guen.Thorold?Tresh.I mean—acquaint her, Guendolen,—But mildly!Guen.Mildly?Tresh.Ah, you guessed aright!I am not well: there is no hiding it.But tell her I would see her at her leisure—That is, at once! here in the library!The passage in that old Italian bookWe hunted for so long is found, say, found—And if I let it slip again ... you see,That she must come—and instantly!Guen.I'll diePiecemeal, record that, if there have not gloomedSome blot i' the 'scutcheon!Tresh.Go! or, Guendolen,Be you at call,—with Austin, if you choose,—In the adjoining gallery! There, go:[Guendolengoes.Another lesson to me! You might bidA child disguise his heart's sore, and conductSome sly investigation point by pointWith a smooth brow, as well as bid me catchThe inquisitorial cleverness some praise!If you had told me yesterday, "There's oneYou needs must circumvent and practise with,Entrap by policies, if you would wormThe truth out: and that one is—Mildred!" There,There—reasoning is thrown away on it!Prove she's unchaste ... why, you may after proveThat she's a poisoner, traitress, what you will!Where I can comprehend naught, naught's to say,Or do, or think! Force on me but the firstAbomination,—then outpour all plagues,And I shall ne'er make count of them!(EnterMildred.)Mil..What bookIs it I wanted, Thorold? GuendolenThought you were pale; you are not pale. That book?That's Latin surely.Tresh..Mildred, here's a line,(Don't lean on me: I'll English it for you)"Love conquers all things." What love conquers them?What love should you esteem—best love?Mil.True love.Tresh.I mean, and should have said, whose love is bestOf all that love or that profess to love?Mil.The list's so long: there's father's, mother's, husband's ...Tresh.Mildred, I do believe a brother's loveFor a sole sister must exceed them all.For see now, only see! there's no alloyOf earth that creeps into the perfect'st goldOf other loves—no gratitude to claim;You never gave her life, not even aughtThat keeps life—never tended her, instructed,Enriched her—so, your love can claim no rightO'er her save pure love's claim: that's what I callFreedom from earthliness. You'll never hopeTo be such friends, for instance, she and you,As when you hunted cowslips in the woodsOr played together in the meadow hay.Oh yes—with age, respect comes, and your worthIs felt, there's growing sympathy of tastes,There's ripened friendship, there's confirmed esteem:—Muchhead these make against the new-comer!The startling apparition, the strange youth—Whom one half-hour's conversing with, or, say,Mere gazing at, shall change (beyond all changeThis Ovid ever sang about) your soul... Her soul, that is,—the sister's soul! With her'T was winter yesterday; now, all is warmth,The green leaf 's springing and the turtle's voice,"Arise and come away!" Come whither?—farEnough from the esteem, respect, and allThe brother's somewhat insignificantArray of rights! All which he knows before,Has calculated on so long ago!I think such love, (apart from yours and mine,)Contented with its little term of life,Intending to retire betimes, awareHow soon the background must be place for it,—I think, am sure, a brother's love exceedsAll the world's love in its unworldliness.Mil.What is this for?Tresh.This, Mildred, is it for!Or, no, I cannot go to it so soon!That's one of many points my haste left out—Each day, each hour throws forth its silk-slight filmBetween the being tied to you by birth,And you, until those slender threads composeA web that shrouds her daily life of hopesAnd fears and fancies, all her life, from yours:So close you live and yet so far apart!And must I rend this web, tear up, break downThe sweet and palpitating mysteryThat makes her sacred? You—for you I mean,Shall I speak, shall I not speak?Mil.Speak!Tresh.I will,Is there a story men could—any manCould tell of you, you would conceal from me?I'll never think there 's falsehood on that lip.Say "There is no such story men could tell,"And I'll believe you, though I disbelieveThe world—the world of better men than I,And women such as I suppose you. Speak![After a pause.]Not speak? Explain then! Clear it up then! MoveSome of the miserable weight awayThat presses lower than the grave! Not speak?Some of the dead weight, Mildred! Ah, if ICould bring myself to plainly make their chargeAgainst you! Must I, Mildred? Silent still?[After a pause.]Is there a gallant that has night by nightAdmittance to your chamber?[After a pause.]Then, his name!Till now, I only had a thought for you:But now,—his name!Mil.Thorold, do you deviseFit expiation for my guilt, if fitThere be! 'T is naught to say that I'll endureAnd bless you,—that my spirit yearns to purgeHer stains off in the fierce renewing fire:But do not plunge me into other guilt!Oh, guilt enough! I cannot tell his name.Tresh.Then judge yourself! How should I act? Pronounce!Mil.Oh, Thorold, you must never tempt me thus!To die here in this chamber by that swordWould seem like punishment: so should I glide,Like an arch-cheat, into extremest bliss!'T were easily arranged for me: but you—What would become of you?Tresh.And what will nowBecome of me? I'll hide your shame and mineFrom every eye; the dead must heave their heartsUnder the marble of our chapel-floor;They cannot rise and blast you. You may wedYour paramour above our mother's tomb;Our mother cannot move from 'neath your foot.We too will somehow wear this one day out:But with to-morrow hastens here—the Earl!The youth without suspicion face can comeFrom heaven, and heart from ... whence proceed such hearts?I have dispatched last night at your commandA missive bidding him present himselfTo-morrow—here—thus much is said; the restIs understood as if 't were written down—"His suit finds favor in your eyes." Now dictateThis morning's letter that shall countermandLast night's—do dictate that!Mil.But, Thorold—ifI will receive him as I said?Tresh.The Earl?Mil.I will receive him.Tresh.[Starting up.]Ho there! Guendolen!(GuendolenandAustinenter.)And, Austin, you are welcome, too! Look there!The woman there!Aus. and Guen.How? Mildred?Tresh.Mildred once!Now the receiver night by night, when sleepBlesses the inmates of her father's house,—I say, the soft sly wanton that receivesHer guilt's accomplice 'neath this roof which holdsYou, Guendolen, you, Austin, and has heldA thousand Treshams—never one like her!No lighter of the signal-lamp her quickFoul breath near quenches in hot eagernessTo mix with breath as foul! no loosenerO' the lattice, practised in the stealthy tread,The low voice and the noiseless come-and-go!Not one composer of the bacchant's mienInto—what you thought Mildred's, in a word!Know her!Guen.Oh, Mildred, look to me, at least!Thorold—she's dead, I'd say, but that she standsRigid as stone and whiter!Tresh.You have heard ...Guen.Too much! You must proceed no further.Mil.Yes—Proceed! All's truth. Go from me!Tresh..All is truth,She tells you! Well, you know, or ought to know,All this I would forgive in her. I'd conEach precept the harsh world enjoins, I'd takeOur ancestors' stern verdicts one by one,I'd bind myself before them to exactThe prescribed vengeance—and one word of hers,The sight of her, the bare least memoryOf Mildred, my one sister, my heart's prideAbove all prides, my all in all so long,Would scatter every trace of my resolve.What were it silently to waste awayAnd see her waste away from this day forth,Two scathèd things with leisure to repent,And grow acquainted with the grave, and dieTired out if not at peace, and be forgotten?It were not so impossible to bear.But this—that, fresh from last night's pledge renewedOf love with the successful gallant there,She calmly bids me help her to entice,Inveigle an unconscious trusting youthWho thinks her all that's chaste and good and pure,—Invites me to betray him ... who so fitAs honor's self to cover shame's arch-deed?—That she'll receive Lord Mertoun—(her own phrase)—This, who could bear? Why, you have heard of thieves,Stabbers, the earth's disgrace, who yet have laughed,"Talk not to me of torture—I'll betrayNo comrade I've pledged faith to!"—you have heardOf wretched women—all but Mildreds—tiedBy wild illicit ties to losels vileYou'd tempt them to forsake; and they'll reply"Gold, friends, repute, I left for him, I findIn him, why should I leave him then for gold,Repute or friends?"—and you have felt your heartRespond to such poor outcasts of the worldAs to so many friends; bad as you please,You've felt they were God's men and women still,So, not to be disowned by you. But sheThat stands there, calmly gives her lover upAs means to wed the Earl that she may hideTheir intercourse the surelier: and, for this,I curse her to her face before you all.Shame hunt her from the earth! Then Heaven do rightTo both! It hears me now—shall judge her then![AsMildredfaints and falls,Treshamrushes out.Aus.Stay, Tresham, we'll accompany you!Guen.We?What, and leave Mildred? We? Why, where's my placeBut by her side, and where yours but by mine?Mildred—one word! Only look at me, then!Aus.No, Guendolen! I echo Thorold's voice.She is unworthy to behold ...Guen.Us two?If you spoke on reflection, and if IApproved your speech—if you (to put the thingAt lowest) you the soldier, bound to makeThe king's cause yours and fight for it, and throwRegard to others of its right or wrong,—If with a death-white woman you can help,Let alone sister, let alone a Mildred,You left her—or if I, her cousin, friendThis morning, playfellow but yesterday,Who said, or thought at least a thousand times,"I'd serve you if I could," should now face roundAnd say, "Ah, that's to only signifyI'd serve you while you're fit to serve yourself,So long as fifty eyes await the turnOf yours to forestall its yet half-formed wish,I'll proffer my assistance you'll not need—When every tongue is praising you, I'll joinThe praisers' chorus—when you're hemmed aboutWith lives between you and detraction—livesTo be laid down if a rude voice, rash eye,Rough hand should violate the sacred ringTheir worship throws about you,—then indeed,Who'll stand up for you stout as I?" If soWe said, and so we did,—not Mildred thereWould be unworthy to behold us both,But we should be unworthy, both of us,To be beheld by—-by—your meanest dog,Which, if that sword were broken in your faceBefore a crowd, that badge torn off your breast,And you cast out with hooting and contempt,—Would push his way through all the hooters, gainYour side, go off with you and all your shameTo the next ditch you choose to die in! Austin,Do you love me? Here's Austin, Mildred,—here'sYour brother says he does not believe half—-No, nor half that—of all he heard! He says,Look up and take his hand!Aus.Look up and takeMy hand, dear Mildred!Mil.I—I was so young!Beside, I loved him, Thorold—and I hadNo mother; God forgot me: so, I fell.Guen.Mildred!Mil.Require no further! Did I dreamThat I could palliate what is done? All's true.Now, punish me! A woman takes my hand?Let go my hand! You do not know, I see.I thought that Thorold told you.Guen.What is this?Where start you to?Mil.Oh, Austin, loosen me!You heard the whole of it—your eyes were worse,In their surprise, than Thorold's! Oh, unlessYou stay to execute his sentence, looseMy hand! Has Thorold gone, and are you here?Guen.Here, Mildred, we two friends of yours will waitYour bidding; be you silent, sleep or muse!Only, when you shall want your bidding done,How can we do it if we are not by?Here's Austin waiting patiently your will!One spirit to command, and one to loveAnd to believe in it and do its best,Poor as that is, to help it—why, the worldHas been won many a time, its length and breadth,By just such a beginning!Mil.I believeIf once I threw my arms about your neckAnd sunk my head upon your breast, that IShould weep again.Guen.Let go her hand now, Austin!Wait for me. Pace the gallery and thinkOn the world's seemings and realities,Until I call you.[Austingoes.Mil.No—I cannot weep.No more tears from this brain—no sleep—no tears!O Guendolen, I love you!Guen.Yes: and "love"Is a short word that says so very much!It says that you confide in me.Mil.Confide!Guen.Your lover's name, then! I've so much to learn,Ere I can work in your behalf!Mil.My friend,You know I cannot tell his name.Guen.At leastHe is your lover? and you love him too?Mil.Ah, do you ask me that?—but I am fallenSo low!Guen.You love him still, then?Mil.My sole propAgainst the guilt that crushes me! I say,Each night ere I lie down, "I was so young—I had no mother, and I loved him so!"And then God seems indulgent, and I dareTrust him my soul in sleep.Guen.How could you let usE'en talk to you about Lord Mertoun then?Mil.There is a cloud around me.Guen.But you saidYou would receive his suit in spite of this?Mil.I say there is a cloud ...Guen.No cloud to me!Lord Mertoun and your lover are the same!Mil.What maddest fancy ...Guen.[Calling aloud.]Austin! (spare your pains—When I have got a truth, that truth I keep)—Mil.By all you love, sweet Guendolen, forbear!Have I confided in you ...Guen.Just for this!Austin!—Oh, not to guess it at the first!But I did guess it—that is, I divined,Pelt by an instinct how it was: why elseShould I pronounce you free from all that heapOf sins which had been irredeemable?I felt they were not yours—what other wayThan this, not yours? The secret's wholly mine!Mil.If you would see me die before his face ...Guen.I'd hold my peace! And if the Earl returnsTo-night?Mil.Ah Heaven, he's lost!Guen.I thought so. Austin!(EnterAustin.)Oh, where have you been hiding?Aus.Thorold's gone,I know not how, across the meadow-land.I watched him till I lost him in the skirtsO' the beech-wood.Guen.Gone? All thwarts us.Mil.Thorold too?Guen.I have thought. First lead this Mildred to her room.Go on the other side: and then we'll seekYour brother: and I'll tell you, by the way,The greatest comfort in the world. You saidThere was a clue to all. Remember, Sweet,He said there was a clue! I hold it. Come!
Scene.The Library.EnterLord Tresham,hastily.Tresh.This way! In, Gerard, quick![AsGerardenters,Treshamsecures the door.Now speak! or, wait—I'll bid you speak directly.[Seats himself.Now repeatFirmly and circumstantially the taleYou just now told me; it eludes me; eitherI did not listen, or the half is goneAway from me. How long have you lived here?Here in my house, your father kept our woodsBefore you?Ger.—As his father did, my lord.I have been eating, sixty years almost,Your bread.Tresh.Yes, yes. You ever were of allThe servant in my father's house, I know,The trusted one. You'll speak the truth.Ger.I 'll speakGod's truth. Night after night ...Tresh.Since when?Ger.At leastA month—each midnight has some man accessTo Lady Mildred's chamber.Tresh.Tush, "access"—No wide words like "access" to me!Ger.He runsAlong the woodside, crosses to the south,Takes the left tree that ends the avenue ...Tresh.The last great yew-tree?Ger.You might stand uponThe main boughs like a platform. Then he ...Tresh.Quick!Ger.Climbs up, and, where they lessen at the top,—I cannot see distinctly, but he throws,I think—for this I do not vouch—a lineThat reaches to the lady's casement—Tresh.—WhichHe enters not! Gerard, some wretched foolDares pry into my sister's privacy!When such are young, it seems a precious thingTo have approached,—to merely have approached,Got sight of, the abode of her they setTheir frantic thoughts upon! He does not enter?Gerard?Ger.There is a lamp that 's full i' the midst,Under a red square in the painted glassOf Lady Mildred's ...Tresh.Leave that name out! Well?That lamp?Ger.—Is moved at midnight higher upTo one pane—a small dark-blue pane: he waitsFor that among the boughs: at sight of that,I see him, plain as I see you, my lord,Open the lady's casement, enter there ...Tresh.—And stay?Ger.An hour, two hours.Tresh.And this you sawOnce?—twice?—quick!Ger.Twenty times.Tresh.And what brings youUnder the yew-trees?Ger.The first night I leftMy range so far, to track the stranger stagThat broke the pale, I saw the man.Tresh.Yet sentNo cross-bow shaft through the marauder?Ger.ButHe came, my lord, the first time he was seen,In a great moonlight, light as any day,FromLady Mildred's chamber.Tresh.[After a pause.]You have no cause—Who could have cause to do my sister wrong?Ger.Oh, my lord, only once—let me this onceSpeak what is on my mind! Since first I notedAll this, I've groaned as if a fiery netPlucked me this way and that—fire if I turnedTo her, fire if I turned to you, and fireIf down I flung myself and strove to die.The lady could not have been seven years oldWhen I was trusted to conduct her safeThrough the deer-herd to stroke the snow-white fawnI brought to eat bread from her tiny handWithin a month. She ever had a smileTo greet me with—she ... if it could undoWhat's done, to lop each limb from off this trunk ...All that is foolish talk, not fit for you—I mean, I could not speak and bring her hurtFor Heaven's compelling. But when I was fixedTo hold my peace, each morsel of your foodEaten beneath your roof, my birth-place too,Choked me. I wish I had grown mad in doubtsWhat it behoved me do. This morn it seemedEither I must confess to you, or die:Now it is done, I seem the vilest wormThat crawls, to have betrayed my lady!Tresh.No—No, Gerard!Ger.Let me go!Tresh.A man, you say:What man? Young? Not a vulgar hind? What dress?Ger.A slouched hat and a large dark foreign cloakWraps his whole form; even his face is hid;But I should judge him young: no hind, be sure!Tresh.Why?Ger.He is ever armed: his sword projectsBeneath the cloak.Tresh.Gerard,—I will not sayNo word, no breath of this!Ger.Thanks, thanks, my lord![Goes.Treshampaces the room. After a pause,Oh, thought's absurd!—as with some monstrous factWhich, when ill thoughts beset us, seems to giveMerciful God that made the sun and stars.The waters and the green delights of earth,The lie! I apprehend the monstrous fact—Yet know the maker of all worlds is good,And yield my reason up inadequateTo reconcile what yet I do behold—Blasting my sense! There's cheerful day outside:This is my library, and this the chairMy father used to sit in carelesslyAfter his soldier-fashion, while I stoodBetween his knees to question him: and hereGerard our gray retainer,—as he says,Fed with our food, from sire to son, an age—Has told a story—I am to believe!That Mildred ... oh, no, no! both tales are true,Her pure cheek's story and the forester's!Would she, or could she, err—much less, confoundAll guilts of treachery, of craft, of ... HeavenKeep me within its hand!—I will sit hereUntil thought settle and I see my course.Avert, O God, only this woe from me![As he sinks his head between his arms on the table,Gwendolen'svoice is heard at the door.Lord Tresham![She knocks.]Is Lord Tresham there?[Tresham,hastily turning, pulls down the first book above him and opens it.Tresh.Come in![She enters.Ha, Guendolen!—good morning.Guen.Nothing more?Tresh.What should I say more?Guen.Pleasant question! more?This more. Did I besiege poor Mildred's brainLast night till close on morning with "the Earl,""The Earl"—whose worth did I asseverateTill I am very fain to hope that ... Thorold,What is all this? You are not well!Tresh.Who, I?You laugh at me.Guen.Has what I'm fain to hope,Arrived then? Does that huge tome show some blotIn the Earl's 'scutcheon come no longer backThan Arthur's time?Tresh.When left you Mildred's chamber?Guen.Oh, late enough, I told you! The main thingTo ask is, how I left her chamber,—sure,Content yourself, she'll grant this paragonOf Earls no such ungracious ...Tresh.Send her here!Guen.Thorold?Tresh.I mean—acquaint her, Guendolen,—But mildly!Guen.Mildly?Tresh.Ah, you guessed aright!I am not well: there is no hiding it.But tell her I would see her at her leisure—That is, at once! here in the library!The passage in that old Italian bookWe hunted for so long is found, say, found—And if I let it slip again ... you see,That she must come—and instantly!Guen.I'll diePiecemeal, record that, if there have not gloomedSome blot i' the 'scutcheon!Tresh.Go! or, Guendolen,Be you at call,—with Austin, if you choose,—In the adjoining gallery! There, go:[Guendolengoes.Another lesson to me! You might bidA child disguise his heart's sore, and conductSome sly investigation point by pointWith a smooth brow, as well as bid me catchThe inquisitorial cleverness some praise!If you had told me yesterday, "There's oneYou needs must circumvent and practise with,Entrap by policies, if you would wormThe truth out: and that one is—Mildred!" There,There—reasoning is thrown away on it!Prove she's unchaste ... why, you may after proveThat she's a poisoner, traitress, what you will!Where I can comprehend naught, naught's to say,Or do, or think! Force on me but the firstAbomination,—then outpour all plagues,And I shall ne'er make count of them!(EnterMildred.)Mil..What bookIs it I wanted, Thorold? GuendolenThought you were pale; you are not pale. That book?That's Latin surely.Tresh..Mildred, here's a line,(Don't lean on me: I'll English it for you)"Love conquers all things." What love conquers them?What love should you esteem—best love?Mil.True love.Tresh.I mean, and should have said, whose love is bestOf all that love or that profess to love?Mil.The list's so long: there's father's, mother's, husband's ...Tresh.Mildred, I do believe a brother's loveFor a sole sister must exceed them all.For see now, only see! there's no alloyOf earth that creeps into the perfect'st goldOf other loves—no gratitude to claim;You never gave her life, not even aughtThat keeps life—never tended her, instructed,Enriched her—so, your love can claim no rightO'er her save pure love's claim: that's what I callFreedom from earthliness. You'll never hopeTo be such friends, for instance, she and you,As when you hunted cowslips in the woodsOr played together in the meadow hay.Oh yes—with age, respect comes, and your worthIs felt, there's growing sympathy of tastes,There's ripened friendship, there's confirmed esteem:—Muchhead these make against the new-comer!The startling apparition, the strange youth—Whom one half-hour's conversing with, or, say,Mere gazing at, shall change (beyond all changeThis Ovid ever sang about) your soul... Her soul, that is,—the sister's soul! With her'T was winter yesterday; now, all is warmth,The green leaf 's springing and the turtle's voice,"Arise and come away!" Come whither?—farEnough from the esteem, respect, and allThe brother's somewhat insignificantArray of rights! All which he knows before,Has calculated on so long ago!I think such love, (apart from yours and mine,)Contented with its little term of life,Intending to retire betimes, awareHow soon the background must be place for it,—I think, am sure, a brother's love exceedsAll the world's love in its unworldliness.Mil.What is this for?Tresh.This, Mildred, is it for!Or, no, I cannot go to it so soon!That's one of many points my haste left out—Each day, each hour throws forth its silk-slight filmBetween the being tied to you by birth,And you, until those slender threads composeA web that shrouds her daily life of hopesAnd fears and fancies, all her life, from yours:So close you live and yet so far apart!And must I rend this web, tear up, break downThe sweet and palpitating mysteryThat makes her sacred? You—for you I mean,Shall I speak, shall I not speak?Mil.Speak!Tresh.I will,Is there a story men could—any manCould tell of you, you would conceal from me?I'll never think there 's falsehood on that lip.Say "There is no such story men could tell,"And I'll believe you, though I disbelieveThe world—the world of better men than I,And women such as I suppose you. Speak![After a pause.]Not speak? Explain then! Clear it up then! MoveSome of the miserable weight awayThat presses lower than the grave! Not speak?Some of the dead weight, Mildred! Ah, if ICould bring myself to plainly make their chargeAgainst you! Must I, Mildred? Silent still?[After a pause.]Is there a gallant that has night by nightAdmittance to your chamber?[After a pause.]Then, his name!Till now, I only had a thought for you:But now,—his name!Mil.Thorold, do you deviseFit expiation for my guilt, if fitThere be! 'T is naught to say that I'll endureAnd bless you,—that my spirit yearns to purgeHer stains off in the fierce renewing fire:But do not plunge me into other guilt!Oh, guilt enough! I cannot tell his name.Tresh.Then judge yourself! How should I act? Pronounce!Mil.Oh, Thorold, you must never tempt me thus!To die here in this chamber by that swordWould seem like punishment: so should I glide,Like an arch-cheat, into extremest bliss!'T were easily arranged for me: but you—What would become of you?Tresh.And what will nowBecome of me? I'll hide your shame and mineFrom every eye; the dead must heave their heartsUnder the marble of our chapel-floor;They cannot rise and blast you. You may wedYour paramour above our mother's tomb;Our mother cannot move from 'neath your foot.We too will somehow wear this one day out:But with to-morrow hastens here—the Earl!The youth without suspicion face can comeFrom heaven, and heart from ... whence proceed such hearts?I have dispatched last night at your commandA missive bidding him present himselfTo-morrow—here—thus much is said; the restIs understood as if 't were written down—"His suit finds favor in your eyes." Now dictateThis morning's letter that shall countermandLast night's—do dictate that!Mil.But, Thorold—ifI will receive him as I said?Tresh.The Earl?Mil.I will receive him.Tresh.[Starting up.]Ho there! Guendolen!(GuendolenandAustinenter.)And, Austin, you are welcome, too! Look there!The woman there!Aus. and Guen.How? Mildred?Tresh.Mildred once!Now the receiver night by night, when sleepBlesses the inmates of her father's house,—I say, the soft sly wanton that receivesHer guilt's accomplice 'neath this roof which holdsYou, Guendolen, you, Austin, and has heldA thousand Treshams—never one like her!No lighter of the signal-lamp her quickFoul breath near quenches in hot eagernessTo mix with breath as foul! no loosenerO' the lattice, practised in the stealthy tread,The low voice and the noiseless come-and-go!Not one composer of the bacchant's mienInto—what you thought Mildred's, in a word!Know her!Guen.Oh, Mildred, look to me, at least!Thorold—she's dead, I'd say, but that she standsRigid as stone and whiter!Tresh.You have heard ...Guen.Too much! You must proceed no further.Mil.Yes—Proceed! All's truth. Go from me!Tresh..All is truth,She tells you! Well, you know, or ought to know,All this I would forgive in her. I'd conEach precept the harsh world enjoins, I'd takeOur ancestors' stern verdicts one by one,I'd bind myself before them to exactThe prescribed vengeance—and one word of hers,The sight of her, the bare least memoryOf Mildred, my one sister, my heart's prideAbove all prides, my all in all so long,Would scatter every trace of my resolve.What were it silently to waste awayAnd see her waste away from this day forth,Two scathèd things with leisure to repent,And grow acquainted with the grave, and dieTired out if not at peace, and be forgotten?It were not so impossible to bear.But this—that, fresh from last night's pledge renewedOf love with the successful gallant there,She calmly bids me help her to entice,Inveigle an unconscious trusting youthWho thinks her all that's chaste and good and pure,—Invites me to betray him ... who so fitAs honor's self to cover shame's arch-deed?—That she'll receive Lord Mertoun—(her own phrase)—This, who could bear? Why, you have heard of thieves,Stabbers, the earth's disgrace, who yet have laughed,"Talk not to me of torture—I'll betrayNo comrade I've pledged faith to!"—you have heardOf wretched women—all but Mildreds—tiedBy wild illicit ties to losels vileYou'd tempt them to forsake; and they'll reply"Gold, friends, repute, I left for him, I findIn him, why should I leave him then for gold,Repute or friends?"—and you have felt your heartRespond to such poor outcasts of the worldAs to so many friends; bad as you please,You've felt they were God's men and women still,So, not to be disowned by you. But sheThat stands there, calmly gives her lover upAs means to wed the Earl that she may hideTheir intercourse the surelier: and, for this,I curse her to her face before you all.Shame hunt her from the earth! Then Heaven do rightTo both! It hears me now—shall judge her then![AsMildredfaints and falls,Treshamrushes out.Aus.Stay, Tresham, we'll accompany you!Guen.We?What, and leave Mildred? We? Why, where's my placeBut by her side, and where yours but by mine?Mildred—one word! Only look at me, then!Aus.No, Guendolen! I echo Thorold's voice.She is unworthy to behold ...Guen.Us two?If you spoke on reflection, and if IApproved your speech—if you (to put the thingAt lowest) you the soldier, bound to makeThe king's cause yours and fight for it, and throwRegard to others of its right or wrong,—If with a death-white woman you can help,Let alone sister, let alone a Mildred,You left her—or if I, her cousin, friendThis morning, playfellow but yesterday,Who said, or thought at least a thousand times,"I'd serve you if I could," should now face roundAnd say, "Ah, that's to only signifyI'd serve you while you're fit to serve yourself,So long as fifty eyes await the turnOf yours to forestall its yet half-formed wish,I'll proffer my assistance you'll not need—When every tongue is praising you, I'll joinThe praisers' chorus—when you're hemmed aboutWith lives between you and detraction—livesTo be laid down if a rude voice, rash eye,Rough hand should violate the sacred ringTheir worship throws about you,—then indeed,Who'll stand up for you stout as I?" If soWe said, and so we did,—not Mildred thereWould be unworthy to behold us both,But we should be unworthy, both of us,To be beheld by—-by—your meanest dog,Which, if that sword were broken in your faceBefore a crowd, that badge torn off your breast,And you cast out with hooting and contempt,—Would push his way through all the hooters, gainYour side, go off with you and all your shameTo the next ditch you choose to die in! Austin,Do you love me? Here's Austin, Mildred,—here'sYour brother says he does not believe half—-No, nor half that—of all he heard! He says,Look up and take his hand!Aus.Look up and takeMy hand, dear Mildred!Mil.I—I was so young!Beside, I loved him, Thorold—and I hadNo mother; God forgot me: so, I fell.Guen.Mildred!Mil.Require no further! Did I dreamThat I could palliate what is done? All's true.Now, punish me! A woman takes my hand?Let go my hand! You do not know, I see.I thought that Thorold told you.Guen.What is this?Where start you to?Mil.Oh, Austin, loosen me!You heard the whole of it—your eyes were worse,In their surprise, than Thorold's! Oh, unlessYou stay to execute his sentence, looseMy hand! Has Thorold gone, and are you here?Guen.Here, Mildred, we two friends of yours will waitYour bidding; be you silent, sleep or muse!Only, when you shall want your bidding done,How can we do it if we are not by?Here's Austin waiting patiently your will!One spirit to command, and one to loveAnd to believe in it and do its best,Poor as that is, to help it—why, the worldHas been won many a time, its length and breadth,By just such a beginning!Mil.I believeIf once I threw my arms about your neckAnd sunk my head upon your breast, that IShould weep again.Guen.Let go her hand now, Austin!Wait for me. Pace the gallery and thinkOn the world's seemings and realities,Until I call you.[Austingoes.Mil.No—I cannot weep.No more tears from this brain—no sleep—no tears!O Guendolen, I love you!Guen.Yes: and "love"Is a short word that says so very much!It says that you confide in me.Mil.Confide!Guen.Your lover's name, then! I've so much to learn,Ere I can work in your behalf!Mil.My friend,You know I cannot tell his name.Guen.At leastHe is your lover? and you love him too?Mil.Ah, do you ask me that?—but I am fallenSo low!Guen.You love him still, then?Mil.My sole propAgainst the guilt that crushes me! I say,Each night ere I lie down, "I was so young—I had no mother, and I loved him so!"And then God seems indulgent, and I dareTrust him my soul in sleep.Guen.How could you let usE'en talk to you about Lord Mertoun then?Mil.There is a cloud around me.Guen.But you saidYou would receive his suit in spite of this?Mil.I say there is a cloud ...Guen.No cloud to me!Lord Mertoun and your lover are the same!Mil.What maddest fancy ...Guen.[Calling aloud.]Austin! (spare your pains—When I have got a truth, that truth I keep)—Mil.By all you love, sweet Guendolen, forbear!Have I confided in you ...Guen.Just for this!Austin!—Oh, not to guess it at the first!But I did guess it—that is, I divined,Pelt by an instinct how it was: why elseShould I pronounce you free from all that heapOf sins which had been irredeemable?I felt they were not yours—what other wayThan this, not yours? The secret's wholly mine!Mil.If you would see me die before his face ...Guen.I'd hold my peace! And if the Earl returnsTo-night?Mil.Ah Heaven, he's lost!Guen.I thought so. Austin!(EnterAustin.)Oh, where have you been hiding?Aus.Thorold's gone,I know not how, across the meadow-land.I watched him till I lost him in the skirtsO' the beech-wood.Guen.Gone? All thwarts us.Mil.Thorold too?Guen.I have thought. First lead this Mildred to her room.Go on the other side: and then we'll seekYour brother: and I'll tell you, by the way,The greatest comfort in the world. You saidThere was a clue to all. Remember, Sweet,He said there was a clue! I hold it. Come!
Scene.The Library.
Scene.The Library.
EnterLord Tresham,hastily.
EnterLord Tresham,hastily.
Tresh.This way! In, Gerard, quick!
Tresh.This way! In, Gerard, quick!
[AsGerardenters,Treshamsecures the door.
[AsGerardenters,Treshamsecures the door.
Now speak! or, wait—I'll bid you speak directly.[Seats himself.Now repeatFirmly and circumstantially the taleYou just now told me; it eludes me; eitherI did not listen, or the half is goneAway from me. How long have you lived here?Here in my house, your father kept our woodsBefore you?
Now speak! or, wait—
I'll bid you speak directly.[Seats himself.
Now repeat
Firmly and circumstantially the tale
You just now told me; it eludes me; either
I did not listen, or the half is gone
Away from me. How long have you lived here?
Here in my house, your father kept our woods
Before you?
Ger.—As his father did, my lord.I have been eating, sixty years almost,Your bread.
Ger.—As his father did, my lord.
I have been eating, sixty years almost,
Your bread.
Tresh.Yes, yes. You ever were of allThe servant in my father's house, I know,The trusted one. You'll speak the truth.
Tresh.Yes, yes. You ever were of all
The servant in my father's house, I know,
The trusted one. You'll speak the truth.
Ger.I 'll speakGod's truth. Night after night ...
Ger.I 'll speak
God's truth. Night after night ...
Tresh.Since when?
Tresh.Since when?
Ger.At leastA month—each midnight has some man accessTo Lady Mildred's chamber.
Ger.At least
A month—each midnight has some man access
To Lady Mildred's chamber.
Tresh.Tush, "access"—No wide words like "access" to me!
Tresh.Tush, "access"—
No wide words like "access" to me!
Ger.He runsAlong the woodside, crosses to the south,Takes the left tree that ends the avenue ...
Ger.He runs
Along the woodside, crosses to the south,
Takes the left tree that ends the avenue ...
Tresh.The last great yew-tree?
Tresh.The last great yew-tree?
Ger.You might stand uponThe main boughs like a platform. Then he ...
Ger.You might stand upon
The main boughs like a platform. Then he ...
Tresh.Quick!
Tresh.Quick!
Ger.Climbs up, and, where they lessen at the top,—I cannot see distinctly, but he throws,I think—for this I do not vouch—a lineThat reaches to the lady's casement—
Ger.Climbs up, and, where they lessen at the top,
—I cannot see distinctly, but he throws,
I think—for this I do not vouch—a line
That reaches to the lady's casement—
Tresh.—WhichHe enters not! Gerard, some wretched foolDares pry into my sister's privacy!When such are young, it seems a precious thingTo have approached,—to merely have approached,Got sight of, the abode of her they setTheir frantic thoughts upon! He does not enter?Gerard?
Tresh.—Which
He enters not! Gerard, some wretched fool
Dares pry into my sister's privacy!
When such are young, it seems a precious thing
To have approached,—to merely have approached,
Got sight of, the abode of her they set
Their frantic thoughts upon! He does not enter?
Gerard?
Ger.There is a lamp that 's full i' the midst,Under a red square in the painted glassOf Lady Mildred's ...
Ger.There is a lamp that 's full i' the midst,
Under a red square in the painted glass
Of Lady Mildred's ...
Tresh.Leave that name out! Well?That lamp?
Tresh.Leave that name out! Well?
That lamp?
Ger.—Is moved at midnight higher upTo one pane—a small dark-blue pane: he waitsFor that among the boughs: at sight of that,I see him, plain as I see you, my lord,Open the lady's casement, enter there ...
Ger.—Is moved at midnight higher up
To one pane—a small dark-blue pane: he waits
For that among the boughs: at sight of that,
I see him, plain as I see you, my lord,
Open the lady's casement, enter there ...
Tresh.—And stay?
Tresh.—And stay?
Ger.An hour, two hours.
Ger.An hour, two hours.
Tresh.And this you sawOnce?—twice?—quick!
Tresh.And this you saw
Once?—twice?—quick!
Ger.Twenty times.
Ger.Twenty times.
Tresh.And what brings youUnder the yew-trees?
Tresh.And what brings you
Under the yew-trees?
Ger.The first night I leftMy range so far, to track the stranger stagThat broke the pale, I saw the man.
Ger.The first night I left
My range so far, to track the stranger stag
That broke the pale, I saw the man.
Tresh.Yet sentNo cross-bow shaft through the marauder?
Tresh.Yet sent
No cross-bow shaft through the marauder?
Ger.ButHe came, my lord, the first time he was seen,In a great moonlight, light as any day,FromLady Mildred's chamber.
Ger.But
He came, my lord, the first time he was seen,
In a great moonlight, light as any day,
FromLady Mildred's chamber.
Tresh.[After a pause.]You have no cause—Who could have cause to do my sister wrong?
Tresh.[After a pause.]You have no cause
—Who could have cause to do my sister wrong?
Ger.Oh, my lord, only once—let me this onceSpeak what is on my mind! Since first I notedAll this, I've groaned as if a fiery netPlucked me this way and that—fire if I turnedTo her, fire if I turned to you, and fireIf down I flung myself and strove to die.The lady could not have been seven years oldWhen I was trusted to conduct her safeThrough the deer-herd to stroke the snow-white fawnI brought to eat bread from her tiny handWithin a month. She ever had a smileTo greet me with—she ... if it could undoWhat's done, to lop each limb from off this trunk ...All that is foolish talk, not fit for you—I mean, I could not speak and bring her hurtFor Heaven's compelling. But when I was fixedTo hold my peace, each morsel of your foodEaten beneath your roof, my birth-place too,Choked me. I wish I had grown mad in doubtsWhat it behoved me do. This morn it seemedEither I must confess to you, or die:Now it is done, I seem the vilest wormThat crawls, to have betrayed my lady!
Ger.Oh, my lord, only once—let me this once
Speak what is on my mind! Since first I noted
All this, I've groaned as if a fiery net
Plucked me this way and that—fire if I turned
To her, fire if I turned to you, and fire
If down I flung myself and strove to die.
The lady could not have been seven years old
When I was trusted to conduct her safe
Through the deer-herd to stroke the snow-white fawn
I brought to eat bread from her tiny hand
Within a month. She ever had a smile
To greet me with—she ... if it could undo
What's done, to lop each limb from off this trunk ...
All that is foolish talk, not fit for you—
I mean, I could not speak and bring her hurt
For Heaven's compelling. But when I was fixed
To hold my peace, each morsel of your food
Eaten beneath your roof, my birth-place too,
Choked me. I wish I had grown mad in doubts
What it behoved me do. This morn it seemed
Either I must confess to you, or die:
Now it is done, I seem the vilest worm
That crawls, to have betrayed my lady!
Tresh.No—No, Gerard!
Tresh.No—
No, Gerard!
Ger.Let me go!
Ger.Let me go!
Tresh.A man, you say:What man? Young? Not a vulgar hind? What dress?
Tresh.A man, you say:
What man? Young? Not a vulgar hind? What dress?
Ger.A slouched hat and a large dark foreign cloakWraps his whole form; even his face is hid;But I should judge him young: no hind, be sure!
Ger.A slouched hat and a large dark foreign cloak
Wraps his whole form; even his face is hid;
But I should judge him young: no hind, be sure!
Tresh.Why?
Tresh.Why?
Ger.He is ever armed: his sword projectsBeneath the cloak.
Ger.He is ever armed: his sword projects
Beneath the cloak.
Tresh.Gerard,—I will not sayNo word, no breath of this!
Tresh.Gerard,—I will not say
No word, no breath of this!
Ger.Thanks, thanks, my lord![Goes.
Ger.Thanks, thanks, my lord![Goes.
Treshampaces the room. After a pause,
Treshampaces the room. After a pause,
Oh, thought's absurd!—as with some monstrous factWhich, when ill thoughts beset us, seems to giveMerciful God that made the sun and stars.The waters and the green delights of earth,The lie! I apprehend the monstrous fact—Yet know the maker of all worlds is good,And yield my reason up inadequateTo reconcile what yet I do behold—Blasting my sense! There's cheerful day outside:This is my library, and this the chairMy father used to sit in carelesslyAfter his soldier-fashion, while I stoodBetween his knees to question him: and hereGerard our gray retainer,—as he says,Fed with our food, from sire to son, an age—Has told a story—I am to believe!That Mildred ... oh, no, no! both tales are true,Her pure cheek's story and the forester's!Would she, or could she, err—much less, confoundAll guilts of treachery, of craft, of ... HeavenKeep me within its hand!—I will sit hereUntil thought settle and I see my course.Avert, O God, only this woe from me!
Oh, thought's absurd!—as with some monstrous fact
Which, when ill thoughts beset us, seems to give
Merciful God that made the sun and stars.
The waters and the green delights of earth,
The lie! I apprehend the monstrous fact—
Yet know the maker of all worlds is good,
And yield my reason up inadequate
To reconcile what yet I do behold—
Blasting my sense! There's cheerful day outside:
This is my library, and this the chair
My father used to sit in carelessly
After his soldier-fashion, while I stood
Between his knees to question him: and here
Gerard our gray retainer,—as he says,
Fed with our food, from sire to son, an age—
Has told a story—I am to believe!
That Mildred ... oh, no, no! both tales are true,
Her pure cheek's story and the forester's!
Would she, or could she, err—much less, confound
All guilts of treachery, of craft, of ... Heaven
Keep me within its hand!—I will sit here
Until thought settle and I see my course.
Avert, O God, only this woe from me!
[As he sinks his head between his arms on the table,Gwendolen'svoice is heard at the door.
[As he sinks his head between his arms on the table,Gwendolen'svoice is heard at the door.
Lord Tresham![She knocks.]Is Lord Tresham there?
Lord Tresham![She knocks.]Is Lord Tresham there?
[Tresham,hastily turning, pulls down the first book above him and opens it.
[Tresham,hastily turning, pulls down the first book above him and opens it.
Tresh.Come in![She enters.Ha, Guendolen!—good morning.
Tresh.Come in![She enters.
Ha, Guendolen!—good morning.
Guen.Nothing more?
Guen.Nothing more?
Tresh.What should I say more?
Tresh.What should I say more?
Guen.Pleasant question! more?This more. Did I besiege poor Mildred's brainLast night till close on morning with "the Earl,""The Earl"—whose worth did I asseverateTill I am very fain to hope that ... Thorold,What is all this? You are not well!
Guen.Pleasant question! more?
This more. Did I besiege poor Mildred's brain
Last night till close on morning with "the Earl,"
"The Earl"—whose worth did I asseverate
Till I am very fain to hope that ... Thorold,
What is all this? You are not well!
Tresh.Who, I?You laugh at me.
Tresh.Who, I?
You laugh at me.
Guen.Has what I'm fain to hope,Arrived then? Does that huge tome show some blotIn the Earl's 'scutcheon come no longer backThan Arthur's time?
Guen.Has what I'm fain to hope,
Arrived then? Does that huge tome show some blot
In the Earl's 'scutcheon come no longer back
Than Arthur's time?
Tresh.When left you Mildred's chamber?
Tresh.When left you Mildred's chamber?
Guen.Oh, late enough, I told you! The main thingTo ask is, how I left her chamber,—sure,Content yourself, she'll grant this paragonOf Earls no such ungracious ...
Guen.Oh, late enough, I told you! The main thing
To ask is, how I left her chamber,—sure,
Content yourself, she'll grant this paragon
Of Earls no such ungracious ...
Tresh.Send her here!
Tresh.Send her here!
Guen.Thorold?
Guen.Thorold?
Tresh.I mean—acquaint her, Guendolen,—But mildly!
Tresh.I mean—acquaint her, Guendolen,
—But mildly!
Guen.Mildly?
Guen.Mildly?
Tresh.Ah, you guessed aright!I am not well: there is no hiding it.But tell her I would see her at her leisure—That is, at once! here in the library!The passage in that old Italian bookWe hunted for so long is found, say, found—And if I let it slip again ... you see,That she must come—and instantly!
Tresh.Ah, you guessed aright!
I am not well: there is no hiding it.
But tell her I would see her at her leisure—
That is, at once! here in the library!
The passage in that old Italian book
We hunted for so long is found, say, found—
And if I let it slip again ... you see,
That she must come—and instantly!
Guen.I'll diePiecemeal, record that, if there have not gloomedSome blot i' the 'scutcheon!
Guen.I'll die
Piecemeal, record that, if there have not gloomed
Some blot i' the 'scutcheon!
Tresh.Go! or, Guendolen,Be you at call,—with Austin, if you choose,—In the adjoining gallery! There, go:[Guendolengoes.Another lesson to me! You might bidA child disguise his heart's sore, and conductSome sly investigation point by pointWith a smooth brow, as well as bid me catchThe inquisitorial cleverness some praise!If you had told me yesterday, "There's oneYou needs must circumvent and practise with,Entrap by policies, if you would wormThe truth out: and that one is—Mildred!" There,There—reasoning is thrown away on it!Prove she's unchaste ... why, you may after proveThat she's a poisoner, traitress, what you will!Where I can comprehend naught, naught's to say,Or do, or think! Force on me but the firstAbomination,—then outpour all plagues,And I shall ne'er make count of them!
Tresh.Go! or, Guendolen,
Be you at call,—with Austin, if you choose,—
In the adjoining gallery! There, go:
[Guendolengoes.
Another lesson to me! You might bid
A child disguise his heart's sore, and conduct
Some sly investigation point by point
With a smooth brow, as well as bid me catch
The inquisitorial cleverness some praise!
If you had told me yesterday, "There's one
You needs must circumvent and practise with,
Entrap by policies, if you would worm
The truth out: and that one is—Mildred!" There,
There—reasoning is thrown away on it!
Prove she's unchaste ... why, you may after prove
That she's a poisoner, traitress, what you will!
Where I can comprehend naught, naught's to say,
Or do, or think! Force on me but the first
Abomination,—then outpour all plagues,
And I shall ne'er make count of them!
(EnterMildred.)
(EnterMildred.)
Mil..What bookIs it I wanted, Thorold? GuendolenThought you were pale; you are not pale. That book?That's Latin surely.
Mil..What book
Is it I wanted, Thorold? Guendolen
Thought you were pale; you are not pale. That book?
That's Latin surely.
Tresh..Mildred, here's a line,(Don't lean on me: I'll English it for you)"Love conquers all things." What love conquers them?What love should you esteem—best love?
Tresh..Mildred, here's a line,
(Don't lean on me: I'll English it for you)
"Love conquers all things." What love conquers them?
What love should you esteem—best love?
Mil.True love.
Mil.True love.
Tresh.I mean, and should have said, whose love is bestOf all that love or that profess to love?
Tresh.I mean, and should have said, whose love is best
Of all that love or that profess to love?
Mil.The list's so long: there's father's, mother's, husband's ...
Mil.The list's so long: there's father's, mother's, husband's ...
Tresh.Mildred, I do believe a brother's loveFor a sole sister must exceed them all.For see now, only see! there's no alloyOf earth that creeps into the perfect'st goldOf other loves—no gratitude to claim;You never gave her life, not even aughtThat keeps life—never tended her, instructed,Enriched her—so, your love can claim no rightO'er her save pure love's claim: that's what I callFreedom from earthliness. You'll never hopeTo be such friends, for instance, she and you,As when you hunted cowslips in the woodsOr played together in the meadow hay.Oh yes—with age, respect comes, and your worthIs felt, there's growing sympathy of tastes,There's ripened friendship, there's confirmed esteem:—Muchhead these make against the new-comer!The startling apparition, the strange youth—Whom one half-hour's conversing with, or, say,Mere gazing at, shall change (beyond all changeThis Ovid ever sang about) your soul... Her soul, that is,—the sister's soul! With her'T was winter yesterday; now, all is warmth,The green leaf 's springing and the turtle's voice,"Arise and come away!" Come whither?—farEnough from the esteem, respect, and allThe brother's somewhat insignificantArray of rights! All which he knows before,Has calculated on so long ago!I think such love, (apart from yours and mine,)Contented with its little term of life,Intending to retire betimes, awareHow soon the background must be place for it,—I think, am sure, a brother's love exceedsAll the world's love in its unworldliness.
Tresh.Mildred, I do believe a brother's love
For a sole sister must exceed them all.
For see now, only see! there's no alloy
Of earth that creeps into the perfect'st gold
Of other loves—no gratitude to claim;
You never gave her life, not even aught
That keeps life—never tended her, instructed,
Enriched her—so, your love can claim no right
O'er her save pure love's claim: that's what I call
Freedom from earthliness. You'll never hope
To be such friends, for instance, she and you,
As when you hunted cowslips in the woods
Or played together in the meadow hay.
Oh yes—with age, respect comes, and your worth
Is felt, there's growing sympathy of tastes,
There's ripened friendship, there's confirmed esteem:—Much
head these make against the new-comer!
The startling apparition, the strange youth—
Whom one half-hour's conversing with, or, say,
Mere gazing at, shall change (beyond all change
This Ovid ever sang about) your soul
... Her soul, that is,—the sister's soul! With her
'T was winter yesterday; now, all is warmth,
The green leaf 's springing and the turtle's voice,
"Arise and come away!" Come whither?—far
Enough from the esteem, respect, and all
The brother's somewhat insignificant
Array of rights! All which he knows before,
Has calculated on so long ago!
I think such love, (apart from yours and mine,)
Contented with its little term of life,
Intending to retire betimes, aware
How soon the background must be place for it,
—I think, am sure, a brother's love exceeds
All the world's love in its unworldliness.
Mil.What is this for?
Mil.What is this for?
Tresh.This, Mildred, is it for!Or, no, I cannot go to it so soon!That's one of many points my haste left out—Each day, each hour throws forth its silk-slight filmBetween the being tied to you by birth,And you, until those slender threads composeA web that shrouds her daily life of hopesAnd fears and fancies, all her life, from yours:So close you live and yet so far apart!And must I rend this web, tear up, break downThe sweet and palpitating mysteryThat makes her sacred? You—for you I mean,Shall I speak, shall I not speak?
Tresh.This, Mildred, is it for!
Or, no, I cannot go to it so soon!
That's one of many points my haste left out—
Each day, each hour throws forth its silk-slight film
Between the being tied to you by birth,
And you, until those slender threads compose
A web that shrouds her daily life of hopes
And fears and fancies, all her life, from yours:
So close you live and yet so far apart!
And must I rend this web, tear up, break down
The sweet and palpitating mystery
That makes her sacred? You—for you I mean,
Shall I speak, shall I not speak?
Mil.Speak!
Mil.Speak!
Tresh.I will,Is there a story men could—any manCould tell of you, you would conceal from me?I'll never think there 's falsehood on that lip.Say "There is no such story men could tell,"And I'll believe you, though I disbelieveThe world—the world of better men than I,And women such as I suppose you. Speak![After a pause.]Not speak? Explain then! Clear it up then! MoveSome of the miserable weight awayThat presses lower than the grave! Not speak?Some of the dead weight, Mildred! Ah, if ICould bring myself to plainly make their chargeAgainst you! Must I, Mildred? Silent still?[After a pause.]Is there a gallant that has night by nightAdmittance to your chamber?[After a pause.]Then, his name!Till now, I only had a thought for you:But now,—his name!
Tresh.I will,
Is there a story men could—any man
Could tell of you, you would conceal from me?
I'll never think there 's falsehood on that lip.
Say "There is no such story men could tell,"
And I'll believe you, though I disbelieve
The world—the world of better men than I,
And women such as I suppose you. Speak!
[After a pause.]Not speak? Explain then! Clear it up then! Move
Some of the miserable weight away
That presses lower than the grave! Not speak?
Some of the dead weight, Mildred! Ah, if I
Could bring myself to plainly make their charge
Against you! Must I, Mildred? Silent still?
[After a pause.]Is there a gallant that has night by night
Admittance to your chamber?
[After a pause.]Then, his name!
Till now, I only had a thought for you:
But now,—his name!
Mil.Thorold, do you deviseFit expiation for my guilt, if fitThere be! 'T is naught to say that I'll endureAnd bless you,—that my spirit yearns to purgeHer stains off in the fierce renewing fire:But do not plunge me into other guilt!Oh, guilt enough! I cannot tell his name.
Mil.Thorold, do you devise
Fit expiation for my guilt, if fit
There be! 'T is naught to say that I'll endure
And bless you,—that my spirit yearns to purge
Her stains off in the fierce renewing fire:
But do not plunge me into other guilt!
Oh, guilt enough! I cannot tell his name.
Tresh.Then judge yourself! How should I act? Pronounce!
Tresh.Then judge yourself! How should I act? Pronounce!
Mil.Oh, Thorold, you must never tempt me thus!To die here in this chamber by that swordWould seem like punishment: so should I glide,Like an arch-cheat, into extremest bliss!'T were easily arranged for me: but you—What would become of you?
Mil.Oh, Thorold, you must never tempt me thus!
To die here in this chamber by that sword
Would seem like punishment: so should I glide,
Like an arch-cheat, into extremest bliss!
'T were easily arranged for me: but you—
What would become of you?
Tresh.And what will nowBecome of me? I'll hide your shame and mineFrom every eye; the dead must heave their heartsUnder the marble of our chapel-floor;They cannot rise and blast you. You may wedYour paramour above our mother's tomb;Our mother cannot move from 'neath your foot.We too will somehow wear this one day out:But with to-morrow hastens here—the Earl!The youth without suspicion face can comeFrom heaven, and heart from ... whence proceed such hearts?I have dispatched last night at your commandA missive bidding him present himselfTo-morrow—here—thus much is said; the restIs understood as if 't were written down—"His suit finds favor in your eyes." Now dictateThis morning's letter that shall countermandLast night's—do dictate that!
Tresh.And what will now
Become of me? I'll hide your shame and mine
From every eye; the dead must heave their hearts
Under the marble of our chapel-floor;
They cannot rise and blast you. You may wed
Your paramour above our mother's tomb;
Our mother cannot move from 'neath your foot.
We too will somehow wear this one day out:
But with to-morrow hastens here—the Earl!
The youth without suspicion face can come
From heaven, and heart from ... whence proceed such hearts?
I have dispatched last night at your command
A missive bidding him present himself
To-morrow—here—thus much is said; the rest
Is understood as if 't were written down—
"His suit finds favor in your eyes." Now dictate
This morning's letter that shall countermand
Last night's—do dictate that!
Mil.But, Thorold—ifI will receive him as I said?
Mil.But, Thorold—if
I will receive him as I said?
Tresh.The Earl?
Tresh.The Earl?
Mil.I will receive him.
Mil.I will receive him.
Tresh.[Starting up.]Ho there! Guendolen!
Tresh.[Starting up.]Ho there! Guendolen!
(GuendolenandAustinenter.)
(GuendolenandAustinenter.)
And, Austin, you are welcome, too! Look there!The woman there!
And, Austin, you are welcome, too! Look there!
The woman there!
Aus. and Guen.How? Mildred?
Aus. and Guen.How? Mildred?
Tresh.Mildred once!Now the receiver night by night, when sleepBlesses the inmates of her father's house,—I say, the soft sly wanton that receivesHer guilt's accomplice 'neath this roof which holdsYou, Guendolen, you, Austin, and has heldA thousand Treshams—never one like her!No lighter of the signal-lamp her quickFoul breath near quenches in hot eagernessTo mix with breath as foul! no loosenerO' the lattice, practised in the stealthy tread,The low voice and the noiseless come-and-go!Not one composer of the bacchant's mienInto—what you thought Mildred's, in a word!Know her!
Tresh.Mildred once!
Now the receiver night by night, when sleep
Blesses the inmates of her father's house,
—I say, the soft sly wanton that receives
Her guilt's accomplice 'neath this roof which holds
You, Guendolen, you, Austin, and has held
A thousand Treshams—never one like her!
No lighter of the signal-lamp her quick
Foul breath near quenches in hot eagerness
To mix with breath as foul! no loosener
O' the lattice, practised in the stealthy tread,
The low voice and the noiseless come-and-go!
Not one composer of the bacchant's mien
Into—what you thought Mildred's, in a word!
Know her!
Guen.Oh, Mildred, look to me, at least!Thorold—she's dead, I'd say, but that she standsRigid as stone and whiter!
Guen.Oh, Mildred, look to me, at least!
Thorold—she's dead, I'd say, but that she stands
Rigid as stone and whiter!
Tresh.You have heard ...
Tresh.You have heard ...
Guen.Too much! You must proceed no further.
Guen.Too much! You must proceed no further.
Mil.Yes—Proceed! All's truth. Go from me!
Mil.Yes—
Proceed! All's truth. Go from me!
Tresh..All is truth,She tells you! Well, you know, or ought to know,All this I would forgive in her. I'd conEach precept the harsh world enjoins, I'd takeOur ancestors' stern verdicts one by one,I'd bind myself before them to exactThe prescribed vengeance—and one word of hers,The sight of her, the bare least memoryOf Mildred, my one sister, my heart's prideAbove all prides, my all in all so long,Would scatter every trace of my resolve.What were it silently to waste awayAnd see her waste away from this day forth,Two scathèd things with leisure to repent,And grow acquainted with the grave, and dieTired out if not at peace, and be forgotten?It were not so impossible to bear.But this—that, fresh from last night's pledge renewedOf love with the successful gallant there,She calmly bids me help her to entice,Inveigle an unconscious trusting youthWho thinks her all that's chaste and good and pure,—Invites me to betray him ... who so fitAs honor's self to cover shame's arch-deed?—That she'll receive Lord Mertoun—(her own phrase)—This, who could bear? Why, you have heard of thieves,Stabbers, the earth's disgrace, who yet have laughed,"Talk not to me of torture—I'll betrayNo comrade I've pledged faith to!"—you have heardOf wretched women—all but Mildreds—tiedBy wild illicit ties to losels vileYou'd tempt them to forsake; and they'll reply"Gold, friends, repute, I left for him, I findIn him, why should I leave him then for gold,Repute or friends?"—and you have felt your heartRespond to such poor outcasts of the worldAs to so many friends; bad as you please,You've felt they were God's men and women still,So, not to be disowned by you. But sheThat stands there, calmly gives her lover upAs means to wed the Earl that she may hideTheir intercourse the surelier: and, for this,I curse her to her face before you all.Shame hunt her from the earth! Then Heaven do rightTo both! It hears me now—shall judge her then![AsMildredfaints and falls,Treshamrushes out.
Tresh..All is truth,
She tells you! Well, you know, or ought to know,
All this I would forgive in her. I'd con
Each precept the harsh world enjoins, I'd take
Our ancestors' stern verdicts one by one,
I'd bind myself before them to exact
The prescribed vengeance—and one word of hers,
The sight of her, the bare least memory
Of Mildred, my one sister, my heart's pride
Above all prides, my all in all so long,
Would scatter every trace of my resolve.
What were it silently to waste away
And see her waste away from this day forth,
Two scathèd things with leisure to repent,
And grow acquainted with the grave, and die
Tired out if not at peace, and be forgotten?
It were not so impossible to bear.
But this—that, fresh from last night's pledge renewed
Of love with the successful gallant there,
She calmly bids me help her to entice,
Inveigle an unconscious trusting youth
Who thinks her all that's chaste and good and pure,
—Invites me to betray him ... who so fit
As honor's self to cover shame's arch-deed?
—That she'll receive Lord Mertoun—(her own phrase)—
This, who could bear? Why, you have heard of thieves,
Stabbers, the earth's disgrace, who yet have laughed,
"Talk not to me of torture—I'll betray
No comrade I've pledged faith to!"—you have heard
Of wretched women—all but Mildreds—tied
By wild illicit ties to losels vile
You'd tempt them to forsake; and they'll reply
"Gold, friends, repute, I left for him, I find
In him, why should I leave him then for gold,
Repute or friends?"—and you have felt your heart
Respond to such poor outcasts of the world
As to so many friends; bad as you please,
You've felt they were God's men and women still,
So, not to be disowned by you. But she
That stands there, calmly gives her lover up
As means to wed the Earl that she may hide
Their intercourse the surelier: and, for this,
I curse her to her face before you all.
Shame hunt her from the earth! Then Heaven do right
To both! It hears me now—shall judge her then!
[AsMildredfaints and falls,Treshamrushes out.
Aus.Stay, Tresham, we'll accompany you!
Aus.Stay, Tresham, we'll accompany you!
Guen.We?What, and leave Mildred? We? Why, where's my placeBut by her side, and where yours but by mine?Mildred—one word! Only look at me, then!
Guen.We?
What, and leave Mildred? We? Why, where's my place
But by her side, and where yours but by mine?
Mildred—one word! Only look at me, then!
Aus.No, Guendolen! I echo Thorold's voice.She is unworthy to behold ...
Aus.No, Guendolen! I echo Thorold's voice.
She is unworthy to behold ...
Guen.Us two?If you spoke on reflection, and if IApproved your speech—if you (to put the thingAt lowest) you the soldier, bound to makeThe king's cause yours and fight for it, and throwRegard to others of its right or wrong,—If with a death-white woman you can help,Let alone sister, let alone a Mildred,You left her—or if I, her cousin, friendThis morning, playfellow but yesterday,Who said, or thought at least a thousand times,"I'd serve you if I could," should now face roundAnd say, "Ah, that's to only signifyI'd serve you while you're fit to serve yourself,So long as fifty eyes await the turnOf yours to forestall its yet half-formed wish,I'll proffer my assistance you'll not need—When every tongue is praising you, I'll joinThe praisers' chorus—when you're hemmed aboutWith lives between you and detraction—livesTo be laid down if a rude voice, rash eye,Rough hand should violate the sacred ringTheir worship throws about you,—then indeed,Who'll stand up for you stout as I?" If soWe said, and so we did,—not Mildred thereWould be unworthy to behold us both,But we should be unworthy, both of us,To be beheld by—-by—your meanest dog,Which, if that sword were broken in your faceBefore a crowd, that badge torn off your breast,And you cast out with hooting and contempt,—Would push his way through all the hooters, gainYour side, go off with you and all your shameTo the next ditch you choose to die in! Austin,Do you love me? Here's Austin, Mildred,—here'sYour brother says he does not believe half—-No, nor half that—of all he heard! He says,Look up and take his hand!
Guen.Us two?
If you spoke on reflection, and if I
Approved your speech—if you (to put the thing
At lowest) you the soldier, bound to make
The king's cause yours and fight for it, and throw
Regard to others of its right or wrong,
—If with a death-white woman you can help,
Let alone sister, let alone a Mildred,
You left her—or if I, her cousin, friend
This morning, playfellow but yesterday,
Who said, or thought at least a thousand times,
"I'd serve you if I could," should now face round
And say, "Ah, that's to only signify
I'd serve you while you're fit to serve yourself,
So long as fifty eyes await the turn
Of yours to forestall its yet half-formed wish,
I'll proffer my assistance you'll not need—
When every tongue is praising you, I'll join
The praisers' chorus—when you're hemmed about
With lives between you and detraction—lives
To be laid down if a rude voice, rash eye,
Rough hand should violate the sacred ring
Their worship throws about you,—then indeed,
Who'll stand up for you stout as I?" If so
We said, and so we did,—not Mildred there
Would be unworthy to behold us both,
But we should be unworthy, both of us,
To be beheld by—-by—your meanest dog,
Which, if that sword were broken in your face
Before a crowd, that badge torn off your breast,
And you cast out with hooting and contempt,
—Would push his way through all the hooters, gain
Your side, go off with you and all your shame
To the next ditch you choose to die in! Austin,
Do you love me? Here's Austin, Mildred,—here's
Your brother says he does not believe half—-
No, nor half that—of all he heard! He says,
Look up and take his hand!
Aus.Look up and takeMy hand, dear Mildred!
Aus.Look up and take
My hand, dear Mildred!
Mil.I—I was so young!Beside, I loved him, Thorold—and I hadNo mother; God forgot me: so, I fell.
Mil.I—I was so young!
Beside, I loved him, Thorold—and I had
No mother; God forgot me: so, I fell.
Guen.Mildred!
Guen.Mildred!
Mil.Require no further! Did I dreamThat I could palliate what is done? All's true.Now, punish me! A woman takes my hand?Let go my hand! You do not know, I see.I thought that Thorold told you.
Mil.Require no further! Did I dream
That I could palliate what is done? All's true.
Now, punish me! A woman takes my hand?
Let go my hand! You do not know, I see.
I thought that Thorold told you.
Guen.What is this?Where start you to?
Guen.What is this?
Where start you to?
Mil.Oh, Austin, loosen me!You heard the whole of it—your eyes were worse,In their surprise, than Thorold's! Oh, unlessYou stay to execute his sentence, looseMy hand! Has Thorold gone, and are you here?
Mil.Oh, Austin, loosen me!
You heard the whole of it—your eyes were worse,
In their surprise, than Thorold's! Oh, unless
You stay to execute his sentence, loose
My hand! Has Thorold gone, and are you here?
Guen.Here, Mildred, we two friends of yours will waitYour bidding; be you silent, sleep or muse!Only, when you shall want your bidding done,How can we do it if we are not by?Here's Austin waiting patiently your will!One spirit to command, and one to loveAnd to believe in it and do its best,Poor as that is, to help it—why, the worldHas been won many a time, its length and breadth,By just such a beginning!
Guen.Here, Mildred, we two friends of yours will wait
Your bidding; be you silent, sleep or muse!
Only, when you shall want your bidding done,
How can we do it if we are not by?
Here's Austin waiting patiently your will!
One spirit to command, and one to love
And to believe in it and do its best,
Poor as that is, to help it—why, the world
Has been won many a time, its length and breadth,
By just such a beginning!
Mil.I believeIf once I threw my arms about your neckAnd sunk my head upon your breast, that IShould weep again.
Mil.I believe
If once I threw my arms about your neck
And sunk my head upon your breast, that I
Should weep again.
Guen.Let go her hand now, Austin!Wait for me. Pace the gallery and thinkOn the world's seemings and realities,Until I call you.[Austingoes.
Guen.Let go her hand now, Austin!
Wait for me. Pace the gallery and think
On the world's seemings and realities,
Until I call you.[Austingoes.
Mil.No—I cannot weep.No more tears from this brain—no sleep—no tears!O Guendolen, I love you!
Mil.No—I cannot weep.
No more tears from this brain—no sleep—no tears!
O Guendolen, I love you!
Guen.Yes: and "love"Is a short word that says so very much!It says that you confide in me.
Guen.Yes: and "love"
Is a short word that says so very much!
It says that you confide in me.
Mil.Confide!
Mil.Confide!
Guen.Your lover's name, then! I've so much to learn,Ere I can work in your behalf!
Guen.Your lover's name, then! I've so much to learn,
Ere I can work in your behalf!
Mil.My friend,You know I cannot tell his name.
Mil.My friend,
You know I cannot tell his name.
Guen.At leastHe is your lover? and you love him too?
Guen.At least
He is your lover? and you love him too?
Mil.Ah, do you ask me that?—but I am fallenSo low!
Mil.Ah, do you ask me that?—but I am fallen
So low!
Guen.You love him still, then?
Guen.You love him still, then?
Mil.My sole propAgainst the guilt that crushes me! I say,Each night ere I lie down, "I was so young—I had no mother, and I loved him so!"And then God seems indulgent, and I dareTrust him my soul in sleep.
Mil.My sole prop
Against the guilt that crushes me! I say,
Each night ere I lie down, "I was so young—
I had no mother, and I loved him so!"
And then God seems indulgent, and I dare
Trust him my soul in sleep.
Guen.How could you let usE'en talk to you about Lord Mertoun then?
Guen.How could you let us
E'en talk to you about Lord Mertoun then?
Mil.There is a cloud around me.
Mil.There is a cloud around me.
Guen.But you saidYou would receive his suit in spite of this?
Guen.But you said
You would receive his suit in spite of this?
Mil.I say there is a cloud ...
Mil.I say there is a cloud ...
Guen.No cloud to me!Lord Mertoun and your lover are the same!
Guen.No cloud to me!
Lord Mertoun and your lover are the same!
Mil.What maddest fancy ...
Mil.What maddest fancy ...
Guen.[Calling aloud.]Austin! (spare your pains—When I have got a truth, that truth I keep)—
Guen.[Calling aloud.]Austin! (spare your pains—
When I have got a truth, that truth I keep)—
Mil.By all you love, sweet Guendolen, forbear!Have I confided in you ...
Mil.By all you love, sweet Guendolen, forbear!
Have I confided in you ...
Guen.Just for this!Austin!—Oh, not to guess it at the first!But I did guess it—that is, I divined,Pelt by an instinct how it was: why elseShould I pronounce you free from all that heapOf sins which had been irredeemable?I felt they were not yours—what other wayThan this, not yours? The secret's wholly mine!
Guen.Just for this!
Austin!—Oh, not to guess it at the first!
But I did guess it—that is, I divined,
Pelt by an instinct how it was: why else
Should I pronounce you free from all that heap
Of sins which had been irredeemable?
I felt they were not yours—what other way
Than this, not yours? The secret's wholly mine!
Mil.If you would see me die before his face ...
Mil.If you would see me die before his face ...
Guen.I'd hold my peace! And if the Earl returnsTo-night?
Guen.I'd hold my peace! And if the Earl returns
To-night?
Mil.Ah Heaven, he's lost!
Mil.Ah Heaven, he's lost!
Guen.I thought so. Austin!
Guen.I thought so. Austin!
(EnterAustin.)
(EnterAustin.)
Oh, where have you been hiding?
Oh, where have you been hiding?
Aus.Thorold's gone,I know not how, across the meadow-land.I watched him till I lost him in the skirtsO' the beech-wood.
Aus.Thorold's gone,
I know not how, across the meadow-land.
I watched him till I lost him in the skirts
O' the beech-wood.
Guen.Gone? All thwarts us.
Guen.Gone? All thwarts us.
Mil.Thorold too?
Mil.Thorold too?
Guen.I have thought. First lead this Mildred to her room.Go on the other side: and then we'll seekYour brother: and I'll tell you, by the way,The greatest comfort in the world. You saidThere was a clue to all. Remember, Sweet,He said there was a clue! I hold it. Come!
Guen.I have thought. First lead this Mildred to her room.
Go on the other side: and then we'll seek
Your brother: and I'll tell you, by the way,
The greatest comfort in the world. You said
There was a clue to all. Remember, Sweet,
He said there was a clue! I hold it. Come!