Part 2
They did not say. I hope to bear him home To-morrow; for in truth I scarce could come, So ill my mother, and so full my hands Of household cares; but, Willie understands.
THE LADY (_thinking_).
_Ciel!_ faith like this is senseless--or sublime! Which is it? (_Speaks_). But three months--so long a time--
THE MAIDEN.
Were it three years, ’twould be the same. The troth We plighted, freely, lovingly, from both Our true hearts came.
THE LADY (_thinking_).
And may as freely go-- Such things have happened! But I will not show One glimpse of doubt to mar the simple trust She cherishes; as soon my hand could thrust A knife in the dove’s breast. (_Speaks._) You’ll find him, dear; All will go well; take courage. Not severe His wound?
THE MAIDEN.
Not unto death; but fever bound His senses. When the troops moved on, they found A kindly woman near by Benton’s Mill; And there he lies, poor Willie, up above In her small loft, calling, in tones that thrill: “Oh, come to me, my love, my love, my love!”-- Here is his picture.
THE LADY.
What! ’tis Meredith! The girl is mad!--Give it me forthwith! How came you by it?
THE MAIDEN.
Madam, you will break The chain. I beg--
THE LADY.
Here is some strange mistake. This picture shows me Meredith Reid.
THE MAIDEN.
Yes, Reid Is Willie’s name; and Meredith, indeed, Is his name also--Meredith Wilmer. I Like not long names, so gave him, lovingly, The pet name Willie.
THE LADY.
O ye Powers above! The “pet name Willie!” Would you try to chain Phœbus Apollo with your baby-love And baby-titles? Scarce can I refrain My hands from crushing you!-- You are that girl, Then, the boy’s fancy. Yes, I heard the tale He tried to tell me; but it was so old, So very old! I stopped him with a curl Laid playfully across his lips. “Nay, hold! Enough, enough,” I said; “of what avail The rest? I know it all; ’tis e’er the same Old story of the country lad’s first flame That burns the stubble out. Now by this spell Forget it all.” He did; and it was well He did.
THE MAIDEN.
Never! oh, never! Though you prove The whole as clear as light, I’d ne’er receive One word. As in my life, so I believe In Willie!
THE LADY.
Fool and blind! your God above Knows that I lie not when I say that he You dwarf with your weak names is mine, mine, mine! He worships me--dost hear? He worships _me_, Me only! What art thou, a feeble child, That _thou_ shouldst speak of loving? Haste, aside, Lest we should drown you in the torrent wild Of our strong meeting loves, that may not bide Nor know your dying, even; feeble weed Tossed on the shore--[_The maiden faints._ Why could I not divine The truth at first? [_Fans her._ Fierce love, why shouldst thou kill This little one? The child hath done no ill, Poor wounded, broken blossom. I should pour My gentlest pity--
THE MAIDEN (_recovering_).
Madam, thanks; no more Do I require your aid.
THE LADY (_aside_).
How calm she seems, How cold her far-off eyes! Poor little heart. The pity of it! all its happy dreams, With a whole life’s idolatry to part In one short moment. (_Speaks._) Child, let us be friends; Not ours the fault, it is the work of Fate. And now, before your hapless journey ends, Say, in sweet charity, you do not hate Me for my love. Trust me, I’ll tend him well; As mine own heart’s blood, will I care for him Till strong again. Then shall he come and tell The whole to you--the cup from dregs to brim-- How, with undoubting faith In the young fancy that he thought was love For you, he came a-down the glittering path Of Washington society; above The throng I saw his noble Saxon head, Sunny with curls, towering among the rest In calm security--scorn that is bred Of virtue, and that largeness which your West With its wide sweep of fields gives to her sons-- A certain careless largeness in the look, As though a thousand prairie-miles it took Within its easy range. Ah! blindly runs Our fate. We met, we two so far apart In every thought, in life, in soul, in heart-- Our very beings clashed. He, fair, severe; I, dark and free; his days a routine clear, Lighted by conscience; I, in waking dream Of colors, music, warmth, the scents of flowers, The sweep of velvet, and the diamond’s gleam, A cloud of romance heavy on the air, The boudoir curtained from the light of day, Where all the highest came to call me fair, And whispered vows I laughed in scorn away. Was it my fault that Nature chose to give The splendid beauty of this hair, these eyes, This creamy skin? And if the golden prize Of fortune came to me, should I not live In the rich luxury my being craved? I give my word, I no more thought of time-- Whether ’twas squandered, trifled with, or saved, Than the red rose in all her damask prime. Each day I filled with joys full to the brim-- The rarest fruits and wines, the costliest lace, The ecstasy of music, every whim For some new folly gratified, the grace Of statues idealized in niches, touch Of softest fabrics. Ah! the world holds much For those who love her; and I never heard In all my happy glowing life one word Against her, till--he came! We met, we loved, Like flash of lightning from a cloudless sky, So sudden, strange, the white intensity-- Intensity resistless! Swift there moved Within his heart a force unknown before, That swept his being from that early faith Across a sea, and cast it on the shore Prone at my feet. He minded not if death Came, so he could but gaze upon my face.
--But, bending where he lay (the youthful grace Of his strong manhood, in humility Prone, by love’s lightnings), so I bended me Down to his lips, and gave him--all! Sweet girl, Forgive me for the guiltless robbery, Forgive him, swept by fateful Destiny! He spoke of one, the child-love of his youth; I told of my child-marriage. But, in truth, No barrier, had it been a thousand-fold Stronger than boyish promise, e’er could hold Natures like ours! You see it, do you not? You understand it all. --I had forgot, But this the half-way town; the train runs slow, No better place than this. But, ere you go, Give me one silent hand-clasp, little pearl. I ask you not to speak, for words would seem Too hard, too hard. Yet, some time, when the dream Of girlhood has dissolved before the heat Of real love, you will forgive me, sweet.
THE MAIDEN.
I fail to comprehend you. Go? Go where?
THE LADY.
Back to your home; here waits the north-bound train; ’Twill bear you safely. To go on were pain Most needless--cruel.
THE MAIDEN.
I am not aware That I have said aught of returning. Vain Your false and evil story. I have heard Of such as you; but never, on my word As lady and as Christian, did I think To find myself thus side by side with one Who flaunts her ignominy on the brink Of dark perdition! Ah! my Willie won The strong heart’s victory when he turned away From your devices, as I _know_ he turned. Although you follow him in this array Of sin, I _know_ your evil smiles he spurned With virtuous contempt--the son of prayers, The young knight of the church! My bosom shares His scorn; take back your ring, false woman. Go! Move from my side.
THE LADY.
Dear Heaven, now I know How pitiless these Christians! Unfledged girl, Your little, narrow, pharisaic pride Deserves no pity; jealousy’s wild whirl Excuse might be, since that is born of love; But _this_ is scorn, and, by the God above, I’ll set you in your place! Do _you_ decide The right and wrong for this broad world of ours, Poor little country-child, whose feeble eyes Veiled o’er with prejudice are yet so wise That they must judge the earth, and call it good Or evil as it follows their small rules, The petty, narrow dogmas of the schools That hang on Calvin! Doubtless prairie-flowers Esteem the hot-house roses evil all; But yet I think not that the roses should Go into mourning therefor! Oh, the small, Most small foundation for a vast conceit! Is it a merit that you never learned But one side of this life? Because you dwelt Down in a dell, there were no uplands sweet, No breezy mountain-tops? _You_ never yearned For freedom, born a slave! You never felt The thrill of rapture, the wild ecstasy Of mere existence that strong natures know, The deep and long-drawn breaths, the burning glow Of blood that sunward leaps; but, in your dell, You said: “This is the world. If all, like me, Walked on this one straight line, all would go well!” O fool! O blind! O little ant toiling along the ground! You cannot see the eagle on the wind Soaring aloft; and so you go your round And measure out the earth with your small line, An inch for all infinity! “Thus mine Doth make the measure; thus it is.” Proud girl! You call me evil. There is not a curl In all this loosened hair which is not free From sin as your smooth locks. Turn; look at me! I flout you with my beauty! From my youth Beside my mother’s chair, by God’s own truth, I’ve led a life as sinless as your own. Your innocence is ignorance; but I Have seen the Tempter on his shining throne, And said him nay. You craven weaklings die From fear of dangers I have faced! I hold Those lives far nobler that contend and win The close, hard fight with beautiful, fierce Sin, Than those that go untempted to their graves, Deeming the ignorance that haply saves Their souls, some splendid wisdom of their own! You fold Yourself in scornful silence? I could smile, O childish heart, so free from worldly guile, Were I not angered by your littleness. You judge my dress The garb of sin? Listen. I sat and heard The opera; by chance there fell a word Behind me from a group of men who fill Night after night my box. My heart stood still. I asked--they told the name. “Wounded,” they said, “A letter in the journal here.” I read, Faced them with level eyes; they did not know, But wondered, caught the truth, to see me go Straight to my carriage. “Drive! The midnight train.” We reached it, breathless. Had I worn fair white, A ballroom-robe, I’d do the same to gain One moment more of time.
THE MAIDEN.
And by what right-- Are you his wife?
THE LADY.
I am not; but to-night I shall be, if I live. Your scorn, poor child, Is thrown away. Bound by his soldier’s oath, I would not keep him. No Omphale I, Though he be Hercules. We plighted troth, And then, when called, he went from me--to die If need be. I remember that I smiled When they marched by! Love for my country burns Within my heart; but this was love for him. I could not brook him, one who backward turns For loving wife; his passion must not dim The soldier’s courage stern. Then I had wealth, The golden wealth left me by that old man Who called me wife for four short months; by stealth He won me, but a child; the quiet plan Was deftly laid. I do not blame him now. My mother dead--one kind thought was to save My budding youth from harm. The thoughtless vow I made was soon dissevered by the grave, And I was left alone. Since then I’ve breathed All pleasures as the flowers breathe in the sun, At heart as innocent as they; red-wreathed My careless life with roses, till the one Came! Then the red turned purple deep, the hope Found itself love; the rose was heliotrope. There needed much To do with lawyers’ pens ere I could give My hand again; so that dear, longed-for touch Was set by me for the full-blooming day When Peace shall drive the demon War away Forever. I was wrong. Oh, let him live, Kind God! Love shall be wronged no more--no more. All my own heart’s life will I gladly pour For one small hour of his.--Wait--wait--I fly To thee, my love, on swiftest wings! Thy cry The depths of grief too hot for tears doth move: “Oh, come to me, my love, my love, my love!”
THE MAIDEN.
It was not you he called!
THE LADY.
Ah! yes.
THE MAIDEN.
He is _Not_ false; I’ll ne’er believe it, woman.
THE LADY.
His The falseness of the pine-tree, felled, uptorn By the great flood, and onward madly borne With the wild, foaming torrent miles away.-- No doubt he loved the violet that grew In the still woods ere the floods came; he knew Not then of roses!
THE MAIDEN.
Cruel eyes, I say But this to all your flashings--you have lied To me in all!
THE LADY.
Look, then, here at my side His letters--read them. Did he love me? Read! Aha! you flush, you tremble, there’s no need To show you more; the strong words blanch your cheek. See, here his picture; could I make it speak, How it would kill you! Yes, I wear it there Close to my heart. Know you this golden hair That lies beside it?
THE MAIDEN.
Should he now confess The whole--yes, tell me all your tale was true, I would not leave him to you, sorceress! I’d snatch him from the burning--I would sue His pardon down from heaven. I shall win Him yet, false woman, and his grievous sin Shall be forgiven. (_Bows her head upon her hands._) O God let him die Rather than live for one who doth belie All I have learned of Thee!
_Train stops suddenly._--_Enter_ CONDUCTOR.
CONDUCTOR.
The bridge is down, The train can go no farther. Morgan’s band Were here last night! There is a little town Off on the right, and there, I understand, You ladies can find horses. Benton’s Mill Is but a short drive from Waunona Hill.-- Can I assist you?
THE MAIDEN.
Thanks; I must not wait. [_Exit._
THE LADY.
Yes; that my basket--that my shawl. O Fate! How burdened are we women! Sir, you are Most kind; and may I trouble you thus far? Find me the fleetest horses; I must reach Waunona Hill this night. I do beseech All haste; a thousand dollars will I give For this one ride. [_Exeunt._
A SOLDIER.
Say, boys, I’d like to live Where I could see that woman! I could fight A regiment of rebels in her sight-- Couldn’t you?
THE OTHERS.
Yes--yes! [_Exeunt omnes._
_THE DRIVE._
THE LADY (_thinking_).
O fair Kentucky! border-land of war, Thou rovest like a gypsy at thy will Between the angry South and stubborn North. Across thy boundaries many times from far Sweep Morgan’s men, the troopers bold who fill Ohio with alarm; then, marching forth In well-drilled ranks with flag, and fife, and drum, From camp and town the steady blue-coats come, March east, march west, march north, march south, and find No enemy except the lawless wind. No sooner gone--Lo! presto through the glen Is heard the midnight ride of Morgan’s men: They ford the rivers by the light of stars, The ringing hoofs sound through the mountain-pass; They draw not rein until their glad huzzas Are echoing through the land of the Blue Grass. --O lovely land, O swell of grassy billows far and near, O wild, free elms, whose swaying arms expand As if to clasp me, hold my love as dear As thine own son! I hasten to his side-- Ye roads, lie smooth; ye streams, make safe the ford; O chivalrous Kentucky, help the bride Though thou hast wounded with thy rebel sword The foeman bridegroom!
* * * * *
.... Can it be that girl Who rides in front? I thought her left behind In that small town. _Ciel!_ would I could hurl The slim thing down this bank! Would I could bind Those prim, long-fingered, proper hands of hers Behind her drooping, narrow-shouldered back, And send her home! A heart like that transfers Its measured, pale affections readily, If the small rules it calleth piety Step in between them. Otherwise, the crack Of doom would not avail to break the cord Which is not love so much as given word And fealty, that conscientiousness Which weigheth all things be they more or less, From fold of ribbon to a marriage-vow, With self-same scales of duty. Shall I now Ride on and pass her--for her horse will fail Before the hour is out? Of what avail Her journey? (_Speaks._) Driver, press forward.--Nay, stop-- (_Aside._) O what a child am I to waver thus! I know not how to be ungenerous, Though I may try--God knows I truly tried. What’s this upon my hand? Did a tear drop? (_Speaks._) By your side Behold me, maiden; will you ride with me? My horses fleet and strong.
THE MAIDEN.
I thank you--no.
THE LADY (_aside_).
She said me nay; then why am I not free To leave her here, and let my swift steeds go On like the wind? (_Speaks._) Ho! driver-- (_Aside._) But, alas! I cannot. (_Speaks._) Child, my horses soon will pass In spite of me; they are so fleet they need The curb to check them in their flying speed. Ours the same journey: why should we not ride Together?
THE MAIDEN.
Never!
THE LADY.
Then I must abide By your decision.--Driver, pass. (_Thinking._) I take Her at her word. In truth, for her own sake ’Twere charity to leave her, hasten on, Find my own love, and with him swift be gone Ere she can reach him; for his ardor strong (Curbed, loyal heart, so long!), Heightened by fever, will o’ersweep all bounds, And fall around me in a fiery shower Of passion’s words.-- And yet--this inner power-- This strange, unloving justice that surrounds My careless conscience, _will_ not let me go! (_Speaks._) Ho! Driver, turn back. --Maiden, I ask again-- I cannot take advantage. Come with me; That horse will fail you soon--ask; both these men Will tell you so.--Come, child--we will agree The ride shall count as naught; nay, when we reach The farm-house, all shall be as though no speech Had ever passed between us--we will meet Beside his couch as strangers. (_Speaks._) There’s defeat For thee, O whispering tempter!
THE MAIDEN (_to the men_).
Is it true? Will the horse fail?
ONE OF THE MEN.
Yes.
THE MAIDEN.
Madam, then with you I needs must ride.--I pray you take my share Of payment; it were more than I could bear To be indebted to you.
THE LADY.
Nay--the sum Was but a trifle. (_Aside._) Now forgive me, truth. But was it not a trifle to such wealth-- Such wealth as mine? (_Speaks._) Heard you that distant drum Borne on the wind a moment? Ah! our youth Is thrilled with the great pulses of this war. How fast we live--how full each crowded hour Of hot excitements! Naught is done by stealth, The little secrecies of other days Thrown to the winds; the clang and charge afar On the red battle-field, the news that sways Now to, now fro, ’twixt victory and defeat; The distant cry of “Extra!” down the street In the gray dawnings, and our breathless haste To read the tidings--all this mighty power Hath burned in flame the day of little things, Curled like a scroll--and now we face the kings, The terrible, the glorious gods of war. --The maid forgets her shyness; wherefore waste One moment when the next may call him forth Ne’er to return to her? The dear old North May take her lover--but he shall not go With lips unkissed to meet his Southern foe; Her last embrace will cheer him on his round Now back, now forth, over the frozen ground Through the long night. --And when the hasty word “Only one day; be ready, love,” is heard, The soft consent is instant, and there swells Amid the cannonade faint wedding-bells From distant village; then, as swift away The soldier bridegroom rides--he may not stay. And she?--She would not keep him, though the tears Blind her sweet eyes that follow him, and fears Crowd her faint heart and take away her breath, As on her white robe falls the shade of Death That waits for him at Shiloh! O these days! When we have all gone back to peaceful ways, Shall we not find sweet Peace a little dull? --You do not speak.
THE MAIDEN.
Madam, my heart is full Of other thoughts.
THE LADY.
Of love?--Pray--what is love? How should a woman love?--Although we hate Each other well, we need not try to prove Our hate by silence--for there is a fate Against it in us women; speak we must, And ever shall until we’re turned to dust, Nay--I’m not sure but even then we talk From grave to grave under the churchyard-walk-- Whose bones last longest--whose the finest shroud-- And--is there not a most unseemly crowd In pauper’s corner yonder? --You are shocked? You do not see, then, that I only mocked At my own fears--as those poor French lads sang Their gayest songs at the red barricade, Clear on the air their boyish voices rang In chorus, even while the bayonet made An end of them.--He may be suffering now-- He may be calling-- There! I’ve made a vow To keep on talking. So, then--tell me, pray, How should a woman love?
THE MAIDEN.
I can but say How I do love.
THE LADY.
And how?
THE MAIDEN.
With faith and prayer.
THE LADY.
I, too; my faith is absolute. We share That good in common. I believe his love Is great as mine, and mine--oh, could I prove My love by dying for him, far too small The test; I’d give my love, my soul, my all, In life, in death, in immortality, Content in hell itself (if there be hells-- Which much I doubt)--content, so I could be With him!
THE MAIDEN.
Is it a woman’s tongue that tells This blasphemy? When I said faith, I meant A faith in God.
THE LADY.