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 have you 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.

Tresh.

That process is begun.

Mer.

Yes, be satisfied

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 to 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 honourable world to them-for God

We're good enough, tho' the world casts us out!

[A whistle is heard.

Tresh. Ho, Gerard!

Enter GERARD, AUSTIN, and GUENDOLEN, with lights.

No one speak! you see what's done!

I cannot bear another voice!

Mer.

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?

Tresh.

Mer. Now?

I will bear those words to her.

Tresh. Now! Lift you the body, Gerard, and leave me The head.

[As they have half raised MERTOUN, he turns suddenly. Mer. I knew they turned me-turn me not from her! There! stay you! there!

[Dies. Guen. [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.

Tresh.

Guendolen, I hear each word

I,

You utter-did you hear him bid me give
His message? Did you hear my promise?

And only I, see Mildred!

Guen.

She will die.

Tresh. 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!

Aus.

Before you fought!

Tresh.

Had we but arrived

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.

Aus.

Whither bear him?

Tresh. Oh, to my chamber. When we meet there

next,

We shall be friends.

[They bear out the body of MERTOUN.

Will she die, Guendolen ?

Guen. Where are you taking me?

He fell just here!

Tresh.
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
Thro' 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 willingly to cross this bloody turf
Under the black yew avenue? That's well!
You turn your head! and I then ?—

Guen.

What is done

Is done! My care is for the living. Thorold,

Bear up against this burthen-more remains

To set the neck to!

Tresh.

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!

SCENE II.-MILDRED'S Chamber. MILDRED alone.

He comes not! I have heard of those who seemed
Resourceless in prosperity,—you thought

Sorrow might slay them when she listed—yet
Did they so gather up their diffused strength
At her first menace, that they bade her strike,
And stood and laughed her subtlest skill to scorn.
Oh, 'tis not so with me! the first woe fell,
And the rest fall upon it, not on me :

Else should I bear that Henry comes not ?—fails
Just this first night out of so many nights ?
Loving is done with! Were he sitting now,
As so few hours since, on that seat, we'd love
No more- -contrive no thousand happy ways
To hide love from the loveless, any more !
I think I might have urged some little point

In my defence, to Thorold; he was breathless
For the least hint of a defence; but no!

The first shame over, all that would might fall.
No Henry! Yet I merely sit and think

The morn's deed o'er and o'er. I must have crept
Out of myself. A Mildred that has lost

'Tis she,

The world

Her lover-oh, I dare not look upon
Such woe! I crouch away from it!
Mildred, will break her heart, not I!
Forsakes me-only Henry 's left me-left?
When I have lost him, for he does not come,
And I sit stupidly . . . Oh Heaven, break up
This worse than anguish, this mad apathy,
By any means or any messenger!

Tresh. [without.] Mildred!

The curse-deliver all you come to say!

What must become of me? Oh speak that thought

Which makes your brow and cheek so pale!

Tresh.

My thought?

Mil. All of it!

Tresh.

How we waded—years ago—

After those water-lilies, till the plash,

I know not how, surprised us; and you dared