University of Virginia Library

Scene V.

Hope—Vernon.
HOPE
I know you mean me kindly.

VERNON
O, how cold
Sounds that word ‘kindly’ by the thing I mean!
I mean, by any spending of myself
By sacrifice, by even your priceless pain,
For which I hate myself, and you, thus grieved,
(But you are gentle) might be drawn to hate me:
By all this, and by more than this, I mean
To save the sweet life which you throw away
Not knowing what you do. But you are calm;
Have you received my words?

HOPE
I am constrained
To speak of what I should not. That you love me
Is your mistake—my sorrow. I would hide
From all the world, from mine own self, from you
If it were possible, that you have cast
Your precious gold, your sacred wealth of life,
To one who, not unthankful, can give back
Nothing more dear than thanks.

VERNON
Why speak of me?
I did not plead my love.

HOPE
Only for that,
That innocent wrong, which I perforce have done
And cannot remedy, I hear you calmly;
Yourself, but not your words, which touch me not,
Which I forget at once, for if remembered
It would be difficult to pardon them.

VERNON
Are you so sure? You do but cheat yourself;
Be honest, look into your heart, believe
The witness which avouches all I say;
Have those unnamed and manifold appeals
Which you find there, been satisfied? Why then
Each is a separate joy! If they be joys,
Why do you thus prohibit them like sins
Or stifle them like pangs?

HOPE
The thought is false.
If you could know the heart which you misread,
It measures not the greater. He must be
Its test and not its answer.

VERNON
So your lips,
Like skilful lawyers, frame an argument
To hide the point of danger, which a tear,
A blush, the murmur of a sigh, betrays;
Too faithful witnesses who mar their cause
While others plead it.

HOPE
I have heard enough:
You make forbearance treason.

VERNON
Yet a word—

HOPE
(interrupting)
Not a breath! I despise my gentleness;
I should have shown you this indignant heart
Which pity veiled (I must not be ashamed
To speak of pity now) since sense so base
Is put upon my patience. He whose name
I breathe not to you, will forgive my fault
More readily than I forgive myself
That I have heard you doubt him. For your sake,
But not for mine, nor his, take this reply:
There's not a cloud-flake in the upper air
Slight enough to be likened to your words
As they flit over mine unruffled faith
And fleck it with no shadow.

[She turns away.
VERNON
I am dumb.

HOPE
(returning)
You should have been so sooner.

VERNON
Here comes one
Who may convince you; slay me with your scorn
And I'll not make defence, if you but find
Courage to question him.

[Exit Vernon.
HOPE
What word is that?
Courage? I need no courage, being safe!
I have invited insults.

Enter Raymond. He starts back. She runs to him.