Dr. Thorne (clasps the boy, who seems half-overcome with sleepiness. Lays him gently on the grass). Go to sleep, my child. It is growing late. (Laddie drops asleep.)
Dr. Thorne (continues to speak, for his emotion bears him on). I did not expect to live when I was dead. I lived—I died—and yet I live. I did not think that love would live when breath was gone. I loved—I blasphemed love—I breathed my last—and still I love. If this be true—anything may be true— (breaks off). God! It may be years before I can see her face—twenty years—thirty— (groaning)—Whence came the love of man and woman, that it should outlive the laws of Nature, and defy dissolution, and outlast the body, and curse or bless the spirit? If love can live, anything can live. Since this is—anything may be— (Falters; glances about; finds himself quite alone with the sleeping child; lifts his eyes to the sky, and then his hands; stands irresolute. Then slowly, reluctantly, still standing manfully upright, with a touching embarrassment.)
Dr. Thorne (prays). Almighty God!—if there be a God Almighty. Reveal thyself to my immortal soul!—if I have a soul immortal.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
(The moonlight fades into a dark midnight. The figure of Dr. Thorne disappears in it.)
(Dawn comes on subtly, but at once, for the nights and days of Paradise are not governed by the laws of earth, and day breaks splendidly over the heavenly world.)
Enter the Two Children (playing with
flowers, and tasting fruit).
Laddie. How did you like coasting down that waterfall on rainbows?
Maidie. I want that butterfly—with fire on it.
Laddie. Don’t be stupid, because you’re dead! That is a flower. (Picks a flower in the shape of a butterfly with jeweled wings; hands it to the girl.) No, it won’t fly. It isn’t grown up yet.