Bion. The man is here. Now have your foolish will.
[Ardia turns and looks at Bertrand. He is stripped of his rich dress and wears only a girdled tunic falling to his knees. Arms and feet are bare]
Ban. [To Bertrand] Sir, we permit the lady of our soul
To end as her heart wills the rite that makes
Her wife and widow. Touch her not, nor speak.
[Bertrand crosses to altar]
Ard. Why should we touch, when souls inhabit eyes
And journey on a look? My heaven-lord,
Here is no priest to bless this act of mine,
But God will know his altar and the gift
I lay upon it. The life we thought to live—
That might have failed, and killed the dream now safe
From tarnish of the days. Earth has enough
Of blind and baffled lives, but great her need
Of dreams. And ours we leave with her, unworn,
Unpaled, warm round the love-seed she shall nurse
To million-budded life.
Bion. Come, make an end!
Ard. An end of love? The God of all the worlds
Cannot do that. Love born this darkest day
Shall be in flower on man's millennial path
And touch his step with Heaven.
Vig. Peace! Be done!
Ard. Ay ... done. My lord, think thou art in the world
Celestial, and from there smile on me—now—
[Draws dagger from her bosom and stabs him. He falls]
High God, as thou art Love, I struck for thee!
[Bends over body]
True aim. Full in the heart. I know the place,
For there my home is—there I live—and now
My house is down, I, too, must fall——
Ban. I'll pay thee!
What hast thou done?