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 | Eclogues and monodramas |  |
So, from fierce dread this match might come about
In her despite, when James was up and sound,
The mother stooped to guilt: and first she penned
In James's hand close-mimicked some vague lines,
Hinting on doubts to Mary, half-grown fears,
To let her gently down, and pave the road:
So prelude in her final forgery
The key-note of her plot: this last she sent
A week in rear. From James the writing ran
In purport crafty, ‘That, in deepest pain,
Tortured he wrote with all perplexity—
He was not master of the course of things,
He least could guide them: he had broached his love
For Mary to his people one by one:
Had tried remonstrance, all persuasion—drops
On granite—“Wed he must if wed he would
Beneath him; he was master of himself.
They could not stay his wiving, nor could he
Constrain them—and on this their mind was firm—
To change a single nod with his vile choice
Caught from the milk-pail.’” The insidious hand
On Mary laid decision what was best,
Assured she could but answer and release
James of all faith henceforward. As indeed
Came the reply of Mary, penned in tears,
‘But blaming James in nothing, with a prayer
That he might find some worthier than herself
To make him happy at a future day.
Nor must James fret about her: she would choose
Mayhap in time an equal when this dream
Had faded, one whose mother should not blush
To call her daughter—ending with farewell.’
And when this came the mother had good heed
To intercept it from the sick man's hand.
So in her scheme she prospered, still in dread
Lest James should move about again too soon
And crush her web to nought.
In her despite, when James was up and sound,
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In James's hand close-mimicked some vague lines,
Hinting on doubts to Mary, half-grown fears,
To let her gently down, and pave the road:
So prelude in her final forgery
The key-note of her plot: this last she sent
A week in rear. From James the writing ran
In purport crafty, ‘That, in deepest pain,
Tortured he wrote with all perplexity—
He was not master of the course of things,
He least could guide them: he had broached his love
For Mary to his people one by one:
Had tried remonstrance, all persuasion—drops
On granite—“Wed he must if wed he would
Beneath him; he was master of himself.
They could not stay his wiving, nor could he
Constrain them—and on this their mind was firm—
To change a single nod with his vile choice
Caught from the milk-pail.’” The insidious hand
On Mary laid decision what was best,
93
James of all faith henceforward. As indeed
Came the reply of Mary, penned in tears,
‘But blaming James in nothing, with a prayer
That he might find some worthier than herself
To make him happy at a future day.
Nor must James fret about her: she would choose
Mayhap in time an equal when this dream
Had faded, one whose mother should not blush
To call her daughter—ending with farewell.’
And when this came the mother had good heed
To intercept it from the sick man's hand.
So in her scheme she prospered, still in dread
Lest James should move about again too soon
And crush her web to nought.
But that day month
The pale sad Mary, crushed with evil days
And goaded by her mother, morn and noon,
Wedded the heavy miller, and so passed
Beyond the land, to pore in after years
On what had been, and train a patient heart
In one dull round of loveless duty's sphere.
The pale sad Mary, crushed with evil days
And goaded by her mother, morn and noon,
Wedded the heavy miller, and so passed
Beyond the land, to pore in after years
94
In one dull round of loveless duty's sphere.
| Eclogues and monodramas | |