Neither advance nor turn back, so we stood
Laughing and crying until Gerard came—
Once safe upon the turf, the loudest, too,
For once more reaching the relinquished prize!
How idle thoughts are—some men's-dying men's!
Mildred,―

Mil.

You call me kindlier by my name

Than even yesterday-what is in that?

Tresh. It weighs so much upon my mind that I
This morning took an office not my own!

I might. . of course, I must be glad or grieved,
Content or not, at every little thing

That touches

you-I may with a wrung heart Even reprove you, Mildred; I did more— Will you forgive me?

Thorold? do you mock?..

and yet you bid me . . that word!

say

Tresh. Forgive me, Mildred!- are you silent, sweet? Mil. [starting up.] Why does not Henry Mertoun come to night?

Are you, too, silent?

[Dashing his mantle aside, and pointing to his scabbard,

which is empty.

Ah, this speaks for you!

You've murdered Henry Mertoun! now proceed!

What is it I must pardon? This and all?

Well, I do pardon you-I think I do.

Thorold, how very wretched you must be!

Tresh. He bade me tell you..

Mil.

What I do forbid

Your utterance of! so much that you may tell

And will not-how you murdered him. . but, no!
You'll tell me that he loved me, never more
Than bleeding out his life there—must I say
"Indeed," to that? Enough! I pardon you!

Tresh. You cannot, Mildred! for the harsh words, yes:
Of this last deed Another's Judge-whose doom
I wait in doubt, despondency, and fear.

Mil. Oh true! there's nought for me to pardon! True

You loosed my soul of all its cares at once-
Death makes me sure of him forever! You

Tell me his last words? He shall tell me them,
And take my answer-not in words, but reading
Himself the heart I had to read him late,

Mil.

Ah, Thorold! was't not rashly done
To quench that blood, on fire with youth and hope
And love of me, whom you loved too, and yet
Suffered to sit here waiting his approach
While you were slaying him? Oh, doubtlessly

You let him speak his poor confused boy's-speech

-Do his poor utmost to disarm your wrath
And respite me!-you let him try to give
The story of our loves, and ignorance,
And the brief madness, and the long despair-
You let him plead all this, because your code
Of honour bids you hear before you strike:
But at the end, as he looked up for life
Into your eyes-you struck him down!

Tresh.

No! no!
Had I but heard him—had I let him speak
Half the truth-less-had I looked long on him,

I had desisted! Why, as he lay there,

The moon on his flushed cheek, I gathered all
The story ere he told it! I saw thro'

The troubled surface of his crime and yours
A depth of purity immovable! .

Had I but glanced, where all seemed turbidest
Had gleamed some inlet to the calm beneath!
I would not glance-my punishment's at hand.
There, Mildred, is the truth! and you-say on-
You curse me?

Mil.

As I dare approach that Heaven
Which has not bade a living thing despair,
Which needs no code to keep its grace from stain,
But bids the vilest worm that turns on it
Desist and be forgiven,-I-forgive not,
But bless you, Thorold, from my soul of souls!

[Falls on his neck.

There! do not think too much upon the past!

The cloud that's broke was all the same a cloud
While it stood up between my friend and you!
You hurt him 'neath its shadow-but is that
So past retrieve? I have his heart, you know—
I may dispose of it-I give it you!

It loves you as mine loves!

Confirm me, Henry!

Tresh. I wish thee joy, beloved! I am glad In thy full gladness!

Guen. [without.] Mildred! Tresham! [Entering with AUSTIN.]

I could desist no longer. Ah, she swoons!

[Dies.

Thorold,

About my neck, and blessed me, and then died.

-You'll let them stay now, Guendolen !

Aus.

Leave her

And look to him! What ails you, Thorold?

Guen.

White

As she and whiter! Austin-quick-this side!

Aus. A froth is oozing thro' his clenched teethBoth lips, where they're not bitten thro', are black! Speak, dearest Thorold!

Tresh.

Something does weigh down. My neck beside her weight: thanks: I should fall But for you, Austin, I believe !-there, there

"Twill pass away soon!—ah,-I had forgotten

I am dying.
Guen.

Thorold-Thorold-why was this?

Tresh. I said, just as I drank the poison off, The earth would be no longer earth to me, The life out of all life was gone from me! There are blind ways provided, the foredone Heart-weary player in this pageant world Drops out by, letting the main masque defile By the conspicuous portal :-I am through— Just through!

Guen.

Don't leave him, Austin! death is close.
Tresh. Already Mildred's face is peacefuller!
I see you, Austin-feel you-here's my hand,
Put yours in it-You, Guendolen, yours too!
You're Lord and Lady now-Your're Treshams-Name
And fame are yours-You hold our 'Scutcheon up.
Austin, no Blot on it! You see how blood

Must wash one blot away: the first blot came
And the first blood came. To the vain world's eye

All's gules again-no care to the vain world,
From whence the red was drawn!

Aus.

No blot shall come!

Tresh. I said that-yet it did come.

Should it come,

Vengeance is God's not man's. Remember me !

[Dies

Guen. [letting fall the pulseless arm.] Ah, Thorold,

we can but remember you!