Ard. Dear, dear my father! 'Twas a world ago!
Char. I was not of the many who can kill
And laugh again, nor yet of hermit-heart.
But for myself had made a gentle god
Whom my soul served.
Ber. I know, my lord, that sweet
Idolatry, and dream what thou didst suffer
So shaken from it.
Char. Far as man knows the world
I fled the scarlet stream that followed me,
And on the skyward slope of Himalay,
Between the white of snows and blue of heaven,
Saw it no more.
Ard. [Kissing his hands] O, white, forgiven hands!
Char. There, near to God as man may come nor lose
The body's mould, I saw in solvent thought
That knows not time, a sinless star,—this earth
That shall be. Back unto my world I came,
And that my dream might live I lived my dream,
Servant to love even where the slaves of hate
Whet sword and knife.
Ard. O, true!
Ber. 'Tis sung of thee!
Char. Now am I old, but love does not deny me
One service more. To-morrow I shall go
To die at Oswald's feet——
Ber. [Eagerly] You will go down?