The Mortal Gods and Other Plays - Part 75
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Part 75

_Ard._ Well, I shall sleep.

Good-night, my lord.

_Ber._ Am I not Vairdelan?

_Ard._ Ay, when you smile so.

[_Holds out her hands, and drops them untouched_]

Far, O far from Kidmir!

_Ber._ Yea, an eternal journey my lost soul May find it. Ardia, counsel me. Two ways Stretch long before me, and I faint In daring either. Give me of your strength.

_Ard._ My strength? I have none.

_Ber._ You have G.o.d's.

Men, proud in valor, stray and lose his hand; The woman holds it ever, walking floods And trampling fire where men go down.

_Ard._ Tell me!

How may I help you?

_Ber._ Sit then. I will speak.

[_She sits; He stands near her_]

I have agreed to be the sovereign Of sword-won Suli.

_Ard._ None will better serve Where he is master. O, this spear-torn land Shall flower to heaven and mate her bloom with stars!

_Ber._ A bloom that dies with me?

_Ard._ Death cannot make The spirit barren.

_Ber._ [_At distance_] Through me my father hopes To found a princely house o'er-topping Asia With Christ-lit towers.

_Ard._ Oh!... Then you will wed.

_Ber._ [_His eyes down_] My bride is chosen.

_Ard._ [_Rising_] Chosen? [_Sits again_]

Nay.... I know....

_Ber._ [_Returning_] Your hidden eyes hide not the loathing there For me forsworn. Why have I troubled you?

Look on me, Ardia. I am not yet fallen.

I take your answer. You have chosen my way, And I set forth upon it--_not_ forsworn.

_Ard._ That word is naught. I do not think of it.

_Ber._ Must man not keep his pledge?

_Ard._ To mortals, yes.

For so our lives are knit, and part to part Keep sound and whole. But pledges unto G.o.d Man cannot make or keep till he may bind The Will that journeys with the launched world.

So might His rivers say "Here will we rest, And worship thee," nor run into the sea, And G.o.d must be content though all his fields Burn waterless. So might the winds vow Him Unbroken calm, and G.o.d who needs his storms Must still his own desire while his dear earth Goes pestilent.

_Ber._ Unsentient things! He shares His will with man.

_Ard._ But not to enslave his own.

Christ seals no bond the lips lay on the soul That is each instant new as life, as change, As the importuning world. Ah, he who sells To one hour's narrow need the zenith light Of unborn days would snuff out time and know No rising sun. Himself would be a slavedom Where never Christ would walk.

_Ber._ Is 't Ardia speaks?

_Ard._ Truth speaks, not I. If man must vow, Let it not be to love no woman,--wear The vest of fire, and in a sunless cell Chain Heaven-arteried life,--then peering out, Cling to the nested eaves transfixed to see His fled desires wear the horizon flame.

But let him vow his Christ shall shrink no vein Of broad and pauseless being; ay,--shall keep Sweet surgence with his blood, climb with his spirit Time's lifting hills, and hold in watch with him The unshrouding pinnacles where love puts off The old clouds for the dawn. Forsworn? O, heart Cell-bound, thy very vows deny thy Christ.

Who serve him wear no chains.

_Ber._ You think me true?

And yet I felt your wounded, doubting eyes Raining me scorn. Why was it, Ardia?

_Ard._ Scorn?

I have forgot why 'twas--or shall forget.

_Ber._ And there was pity too, that dropped your lids.

And would have sheltered me. Is that forgot?

_Ard._ Nay, that.... I'll tell you that. I thought of Love, Man's angel, and the heart-lone way of him Who missed and found her not. Never to take More courage from the fall of her sure feet On heights that wind between death and the stars; Or where his road burns through the shadeless sands, Reach for the hand with fountains in its touch And feel the palm-breath round him. Not to know Her eyes when night is come, and there's no star; Her breast, that pillowing the darkened waste, Keeps warm the bitten earth and gives him dream To meet and match the dawn. So wept my thoughts, Forgetting that you are no wanderer, But kingly housed will rule a tamed realm.

Or should a harvest come of spears, not grain, Yet is your princess brave and beautiful, And bears, may be, a mating heart. Love then Will come to you----

_Ber._ My princess?

_Ard._ Berenice.

Your father's choice ... and yours.

_Ber._ My Ardia! Mine!

Could such a lie creep to your soul and find No lances at the door? [_Kneels, kissing her hands_]

My love, my love, my love!

Let honors fail, and stars forget my name, 'Tis thou shalt walk beside me, thou my chosen!

I'll hear thy footfall on the winter steep, And take thy hand where desert noons are white, But close thy breast shall lie upon my heart, Nor pillow the bitten waste, my own, my own!

[_She moves from him. He rises_]

Why are you silent, pale, and heaven-still?

_Ard._ I must be still. I've mourned my heart-walls thin.

This joy will break them. Joy to hear your voice With love's mate-music in it cry to me.

My joy! I'll drink it all, nor lose one drop, For I shall have no more.

_Ber._ No more? No less Than life can hold!

_Ard._ Hear me, my lord.

_Ber._ You love me!

_Ard._ I shall not be your wife.

_Ber._ You're mine--all mine!