Scene II
[The curtain rises presently upon the same: a taper burns low. Thordis, seated with a harp, is playing; near her Egil stands amid the block ruins. Ceasing to play, Thordis rises, looks at Egil (who stands oblivious), passes silently to the window and looks out.]
THORDIS The moon has set.
EGIL [Stirs as from a trance.] Can, then, the eternal cease? That perfect architecture pale in air? You built again my temple of sweet sounds And peopled it with deathless visitants, And shed around their forms a nameless grace Medicinal as moonlight, and as calm. I walked with them, and they discoursed with me. Almost it seemed myself was one of them.— And then you ceased.
THORDIS ’Tis beauty’s paradox To prove itself immortal—and to die.
EGIL Die? Must this godlike transmutation lapse Into the lurking wolf again? Ah, no! That music died in labour, and its yearning Hath borne a man-child, that lives after it Here in my soul. Henceforth I nevermore May be that groping hypocrite of prayer Whom you uplifted from this ruined altar, With passion-sealèd eyes seeking the light Of freedom. No, henceforth I shall be strong, Clear-eyed, serene, and dauntless. See! I take Your hand and bid you go from me.—Thou only, Thou art my heart’s desire. See! I renounce thee. Go from me, for I love you. Leave me! Yet You leave me not alone; that passionate presence Which the blind wrath and hunger for possession Cries out for from my clay—of that I am Bereft indeed; but losing that, I gain The stellar part of you, the exceeding light Of fellowship and human sympathy.— Leave me! I love you.
THORDIS Is this Egil speaks?
EGIL Egil, your lover, I!
THORDIS The gods are mighty, And music is the lordliest. O Egil, Thou art emancipated, and to-morrow They will fling wide thy prison doors.—Good night! [Giving him the harp.] Keep here thy god with thee. [At the door, as they clasp hands.] Brother!—Good night. [Exit.]