Chapter 14

light seen through a central red pane._

_Enter TRESHAM through the trees._

Again here! But I cannot lose myself. The heath--the orchard--I have traversed glades And dells and bosky paths which used to lead Into green wild-wood depths, bewildering My boy's adventurous step. And now they tend Hither or soon or late; the blackest shade Breaks up, the thronged trunks of the trees ope wide, And the dim turret I have fled from, fronts Again my step: the very river put Its arm about me and conducted me To this detested spot. Why then, I'll shun Their will no longer: do your will with me! Oh, bitter! To have reared a towering scheme Of happiness, and to behold it razed, Were nothing: all men hope, and see their hopes Frustrate, and grieve awhile, and hope anew. But I ... to hope that from a line like ours No horrid prodigy like this would spring, Were just as though I hoped that from these old Confederates against the sovereign day, Children of older and yet older sires, Whose living coral berries dropped, as now On me, on many a baron's surcoat once, On many a beauty's wimple--would proceed No poison-tree, to thrust, from hell its root, Hither and thither its strange snaky arms. Why came I here? What must I do? [_A bell strikes._] A bell? Midnight! and 'tis at midnight.... Ah, I catch --Woods, river, plains, I catch your meaning now, And I obey you! Hist! This tree will serve.

[_He retires behind one of the trees. After a pause, enter MERTOUN cloaked as before._

_Mertoun._ Not time! Beat out thy last voluptuous beat Of hope and fear, my heart! I thought the clock I' the chapel struck as I was pushing through The ferns. And so I shall no more see rise My love-star! Oh, no matter for the past! So much the more delicious task to watch Mildred revive: to pluck out, thorn by thorn, All traces of the rough forbidden path My rash love lured her to! Each day must see Some fear of hers effaced, some hope renewed: Then there will be surprises, unforeseen Delights in store. I'll not regret the past.

[_The light is placed above in the purple pane._

And see, my signal rises, Mildred's star! I never saw it lovelier than now It rises for the last time. If it sets, 'Tis that the re-assuring sun may dawn.

[_As he prepares to ascend the last tree of the avenue, TRESHAM arrests his arm._

Unhand me--peasant, by your grasp! Here's gold. 'Twas a mad freak of mine. I said I'd pluck A branch from the white-blossomed shrub beneath The casement there. Take this, and hold your peace.

_Tresham._ Into the moonlight yonder, come with me! Out of the shadow!

_Mertoun._ I am armed, fool!

_Tresham._ Yes, Or no? You'll come into the light, or no? My hand is on your throat--refuse!--

_Mertoun._ That voice! Where have I heard ... no--that was mild and slow. I'll come with you.

[_They advance._

_Tresham._ You're armed: that's well. Declare Your name: who are you?

_Mertoun._ (Tresham!--she is lost!)

_Tresham._ Oh, silent? Do you know, you bear yourself Exactly as, in curious dreams I've had How felons, this wild earth is full of, look When they're detected, still your kind has looked! The bravo holds an assured countenance, The thief is voluble and plausible, But silently the slave of lust has crouched When I have fancied it before a man. Your name!

_Mertoun._ I do conjure Lord Tresham--ay, Kissing his foot, if so I might prevail-- That he for his own sake forbear to ask My name! As heaven's above, his future weal Or woe depends upon my silence! Vain! I read your white inexorable face. Know me, Lord Tresham!

[_He throws off his disguises._

_Tresham._ Mertoun! [_After a pause._] Draw now!

_Mertoun._ Hear me But speak first!

_Tresham._ Not one least word on your life! Be sure that I will strangle in your throat The least word that informs me how you live And yet seem what you seem! No doubt 'twas you Taught Mildred still to keep that face and sin. We should join hands in frantic sympathy If you once taught me the unteachable, Explained how you can live so, and so lie. With God's help I retain, despite my sense, The old belief--a life like yours is still Impossible. Now draw!

_Mertoun._ Not for my sake, Do I entreat a hearing--for your sake, And most, for her sake!

_Tresham._ Ha ha, what should I Know of your ways? A miscreant like yourself, How must one rouse his ire? A blow?--that's pride No doubt, to him! One spurns him, does one not? Or sets the foot upon his mouth, or spits Into his face! Come! Which, or all of these?

_Mertoun._ 'Twixt him and me and Mildred, Heaven be judge! Can I avoid this? Have your will, my lord!

[_He draws and, after a few passes, falls._

_Tresham._ You are not hurt?

_Mertoun._ You'll hear me now!

_Tresham._ But rise!

_Mertoun._ Ah, Tresham, say I not "you'll hear me now!" And what procures a man the right to speak In his defense before his fellow man, But--I suppose--the thought that presently He may have leave to speak before his God His whole defense?

_Tresham._ Not hurt? It cannot be! You made no effort to resist me. Where Did my sword reach you? Why not have returned My thrusts? Hurt where?

_Mertoun._ My lord--

_Tresham._ How young he is!

_Mertoun._ Lord Tresham, I am very young, and yet I have entangled other lives with mine. Do let me speak, and do believe my speech! That when I die before you presently,--

_Tresham._ Can you stay here till I return with help?

_Mertoun._ Oh, stay by me! When I was less than boy I did you grievous wrong and knew it not-- Upon my honor, knew it not! Once known, I could not find what seemed a better way To right you than I took: my life--you feel How less than nothing were the giving you The life you've taken! But I thought my way The better--only for your sake and hers: And as you have decided otherwise, Would I had an infinity of lives To offer you! Now say--instruct me--think! Can you, from the brief minutes I have left, Eke out my reparation? Oh think--think! For I must wring a partial--dare I say, Forgiveness from you, ere I die?

_Tresham._ I do Forgive you.

_Mertoun._ Wait and ponder that great word! Because, if you forgive me, I shall hope To speak to you of--Mildred!

_Tresham._ Mertoun, haste And anger have undone us. 'Tis not you Should tell me for a novelty you're young, Thoughtless, unable to recall the past. Be but your pardon ample as my own!

_Mertoun._ Ah, Tresham, that a sword-stroke and a drop Of blood or two, should bring all this about! Why, 'twas my very fear of you, my love Of you--(what passion like a boy's for one Like you?)--that ruined me! I dreamed of you-- You, all accomplished, courted everywhere, The scholar and the gentleman. I burned To knit myself to you: but I was young, And your surpassing reputation kept me So far aloof! Oh, wherefore all that love? With less of love, my glorious yesterday Of praise and gentlest words and kindest looks, Had taken place perchance six months ago. Even now, how happy we had been! And yet I know the thought of this escaped you, Tresham! Let me look up into your face; I feel 'Tis changed above me: yet my eyes are glazed. Where? where?

[_As he endeavors to raise himself, his eye catches the lamp._

Ah, Mildred! What will Mildred do? Tresham, her life is bound up in the life That's bleeding fast away! I'll live--must live, There, if you'll only turn me I shall live And save her! Tresham--oh, had you but heard! Had you but heard! What right was yours to set The thoughtless foot upon her life and mine, And then say, as we perish, "Had I thought, All had gone otherwise?" We've sinned and die: Never you sin, Lord Tresham! for you'll die, And God will judge you.

_Tresham._ Yes, be satisfied! That process is begun.

_Mertoun._ And she sits there Waiting for me! Now, say you this to her-- You, not another--say, I saw him die As he breathed this, "I love her"--you don't know What those three small words mean! Say, loving her Lowers me down the bloody slope to death With memories ... I speak to her, not you, Who had no pity, will have no remorse, Perchance intend her.... Die along with me, Dear Mildred! 'tis so easy, and you'll 'scape So much unkindness! Can I lie at rest, With rude speech spoken to you, ruder deeds Done to you?--heartless men shall have my heart, And I tied down with grave-clothes and the worm, Aware, perhaps, of every blow--oh God!-- Upon those lips--yet of no power to tear The felon stripe by stripe! Die, Mildred! Leave Their honorable world to them! For God We're good enough, though the world casts us out.

[_A whistle is heard._

_Tresham._ Ho, Gerard!

_Enter GERARD, AUSTIN and GUENDOLEN, with lights._

No one speak! You see what's done. I cannot bear another voice.

_Mertoun._ There's light-- Light all about me, and I move to it. Tresham, did I not tell you--did you not Just promise to deliver words of mine To Mildred?

_Tresham._ I will bear these words to her.

_Mertoun._ Now?

_Tresham._ Now. Lift you the body, and leave me The head.

[_As they half raise MERTOUN, he turns suddenly._

_Mertoun._ I knew they turned me: turn me not from her! There! stay you! there!

[_Dies._

_Guendolen_ [_after a pause_]. Austin, remain you here With Thorold until Gerard comes with help: Then lead him to his chamber. I must go To Mildred.

_Tresham._ Guendolen, I hear each word You utter. Did you hear him bid me give His message? Did you hear my promise? I, And only I, see Mildred.

_Guendolen._ She will die.

_Tresham._ Oh no, she will not die! I dare not hope She'll die. What ground have you to think she'll die? Why, Austin's with you!

_Austin._ Had we but arrived Before you fought!

_Tresham._ There was no fight at all. He let me slaughter him--the boy! I'll trust The body there to you and Gerard--thus! Now bear him on before me.

_Austin._ Whither bear him?

_Tresham._ Oh, to my chamber! When we meet there next, We shall be friends.

[_They bear out the body of MERTOUN._

Will she die, Guendolen?

_Guendolen._ Where are you taking me?

_Tresham._ He fell just here. Now answer me. Shall you in your whole life --You who have nought to do with Mertoun's fate, Now you have seen his breast upon the turf, Shall you e'er walk this way if you can help? When you and Austin wander arm-in-arm Through our ancestral grounds, will not a shade Be ever on the meadow and the waste-- Another kind of shade than when the night Shuts the woodside with all its whispers up? But will you ever so forget his breast As carelessly to cross this bloody turf Under the black yew avenue? That's well! You turn your head: and I then?--

_Guendolen._ What is done Is done. My care is for the living. Thorold, Bear up against this burden: more remains To set the neck to!

_Tresham._ Dear and ancient trees My fathers planted, and I loved so well! What have I done that, like some fabled crime Of yore, lets loose a Fury leading thus Her miserable dance amidst you all? Oh, never more for me shall winds intone With all your tops a vast antiphony, Demanding and responding in God's praise! Hers ye are now, not mine! Farewell--farewell!