Her. [With arms beseeching] Here, Chartrien, here!
Cha. Even when my eyes—so late—were wide to wrong
That binds the race to pain's dread Caucasus,
My mad imagination laid the gift
Of seership on you, dreamed that you would go
To meet the gleam of the delivering days,——
Her. With you!
Cha. Sail any sea of venture, beat
Through any storm to make the prophet's port,—
White priestess vassal to the truth that leads
The planet into light!
Her. Together, Chartrien!
Cha. That was my dream. Then coming to your side.
There was no life but yours,—no world that bled
And felt the vulture feeding. Groans of men
Grew still, or like the unavailing hum
Of far-off, aimless bees, scarce reached my ears
That heard, more near, as music from new earth,
Your children call me father. Ay, 'twas but
The storming undersea of passioning sex
That breaking to the sky o'erlaid my stars
And wore the mask of Heaven! That ebbless power,
That spawning tide of Nature, by whose might
She took primordial forts and made Life hers!
Still does it tear belated, unassuaged,
In wreck about the Mind's aspiring fanes.
And shakes the nesting Spirit from her towers,
Her heavenly brood unfledged!
Her. Oh! Oh!
Cha. Here—now—
I beat it back, and go my way unmated
Till beauty fair as yours has bred a soul
And signals me! [Exit]
Her. Stay, Chartrien! Oh, my love!
[Falls. Curtain]