[_He draws and, after a few pa.s.ses, 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 G.o.d 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 pa.s.sion 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 surpa.s.sing 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 G.o.d 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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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 G.o.d!-- Upon those lips--yet of no power to tear The felon stripe by stripe! Die, Mildred! Leave Their honorable world to them! For G.o.d 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._