The Mortal Gods and Other Plays Part 3

_Her._ [_At his side_] What lover's this?--dreams still When love is by. Were he an olden knight He'd ride to tourney and forget his spurs!

_Cha._ He would forget the world and fame and G.o.d To see your eyes like this!

_Her._ You tremble, Chartrien.

Love so much?--yet stood here just--a stump--

_Cha._ That felt you coming, coming like a bird, And watched and waited, envying every bough Where you paused doubting, till you fluttering lit, Down in the old stump's heart--

_Her._ There, I've forgot!

This is my lover ere that lure crept up From Goldusan. Since you came back, I've felt The shadow of a difference, and I've heard The maids of Goldusan can draw men's souls Out of their bodies for a dance in h.e.l.l.

_Cha._ My love!

_Her._ O, Chartrien, are you mine? I feel A question in your worship. When your eyes Are warmest, love lies on them like The shallow moon-gleam on a deep, dark sea That is not kin with it. A sea that once Was mine, and I could go, with circling arms, Love-lanterned to its depth. But now the dark Is round me fathomless----

_Cha._ My own!

_Her._ I try to rise, To find my wings--and feel the air again Without your drowning touch upon me----

_Cha._ Hernda!

Have I so nearly lost you? Come, beloved, Sit here, and let me vow me yours again Till in each word you feel my beating heart.

_Her._ My stars shall hear these vows.

[_Changes the light to pale, evening glow. Rear, right, are glimpses of sky with frail, moving clouds, faint stars and a new moon_]

And see, my moon.

Intent and virginal.

[_She sits, and Chartrien lies on the ground, his breast covering her feet_]

Now, now my heart Holds not another thing but love and you!

_Cha._ No thought of those dread wings?

_Her._ None, none! And you?

[_Bends over him_]

All mine. I hold you now, fast in my world.

Sometimes you enter, come within my door.

And then I can not shut it for a wind That clings about you from a farther sky.

_Cha._ [_Rises and takes her face between his hands_]

There's but one sky!

_Her._ A shuddering breath, As from a planet strange, where you have walked And I shall never go.

_Cha._ O, shut me in, Rose of a heart! I'll not go out though Life Beat at the door, and call her giant storms To knock upon 't.

_Her._ Is this not life? And this The only world?

_Cha._ The only world. My habitat One perfect hour.

_Her._ One hour? Forever, love.

_Cha._ O, vow it for me, sweet,--again, again!

Till I believe once more in Arcadies Born of a silken purse. In sunsets caught In tinted tapestries, with jacinth heart Gold-bleeding through the woven breath of dream.

In soft moon-hours that drop from painted skies, In fairy woodlands aye unwintering, In love's elf-ring no boding star may cross, And you, my Hernda, sceptred in joy's name, Tossing the apple planets in your hands-- These little, sovereign hands--as G.o.d might do, Had he, poor G.o.d, your power.

_Her._ Love, you hurt.

_Cha._ Ah, tears in Arcady?

_Her._ Oh, what is this Has come between us?

_Cha._ What? The universe.

I can not reach you even when my lips Are on your heart.

_Her._ May I not come to you?

_Cha._ From this moon-world? No hope of that.

_Her._ See then, The day! [_Changes the light to sunrise_]

Now may I come?

_Cha._ Forever playing!

The way lies here.

[_Steps to window and opens it. A snowy blast rushes in_]

_Her._ Stop, Chartrien! Shut it! Oh, You've killed my Spring!

_Cha._ You will not come?

_Her._ You're mad.

[_Struggles with the window until she closes it, Chartrien watching her_]

_Cha._ You do not like that road. But it is mine.

And children walk it. I have met them there.

_Her._ Oh, I am frozen! See!

_Cha._ [_With sudden contrition, pressing her to his breast_]

No, you are fire.

A fire that I will clasp, though it should burn My holiest temple and betray my soul To ashes!

_Her._ O, my love, what secret curbs Your nature to this chafe? It rubs even through Your ardor.--stabs me on your breast.

May I not know it? Is not confidence Dear blood and life of love? Without it, ours Must pale, ghost-cold, a chill between locked arms.

_Cha._ Is trust not love's prerogative More royal sweet than any burdened share Of secrecy?

_Her._ Not to the strong!