Ard. Your doubt would stir
Beneath your tenderest deep. My nearing step
Would as a trumpet start its buried storm
To sweep our meeting eyes.
Ber. If Christ would give
A sign,—leave me no choice,—no other way
Ard. The torch of Fate but blinds us when the heart
Beareth no light.
Ber. Not Fate, but Heaven—there
I'd read my sign.
Ard. Hope not, my lord, that Heaven
Will drive me to your arms. Farewell.
Ber. No, no!
To keep you I'll dare hell——
Ard. Dare hell? My love
Walks not that fiery verge, but waits thine own
In regions nearer God. There we shall meet,
And there will be no hell.
[Turns to go, but is drawn back by his grief]
Thou art a prince
Of Christ. Arise and rule this land for him.
There is no sin in you. You've kissed my hands,
And they are bright as stars!
Ber. O, can you go?
You do not love me. In your breast are wings—
No heart, but wings that seek the mountain sky.
Go perch above me, leave me dying here.
And cool your bosom with a virgin song
To mateless heaven!
Ard. Who is cruel now?
You have the world to feed on, need not eat
Your heart as I must—I, the woman. Dear,
Where Kidmir cliffs climb highest to the sky
I'll keep my watch, but thou shall rise above me
In thought of men. O'er all discerning shall
Thy purpose wing, perhaps be drunk of clouds,
But light shall follow where thine aim has sped,
And leading upward with your comrade world,
My Kidmir shall seem lowly, where I walk
With stintless ache beneath the cedar boughs
On pain's moon nights. And oh, the Springs to pass,
When each bride-bud shall be a wound to me,
When grasses young, and softly pushing moss,
Shall urge my feet like fire, and I must stand
Quite still ... quite still ... with all my unborn babes
Dead in my heart.
Ber. [Motionless] You dare not leave me now.
You dare not, Ardia.