University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

Raymond—Hope—Avice.
Enter Avice.
AVICE
I came to summon you to breakfast, friends,
And I trod softly, not to break your dreams
Of ceaseless interchange of endless vows;
I find you shouting like a populace.
What is the matter?

RAYMOND
O, vast ignorance!
We change our vows with ‘tumult of acclaim’
As if we were in Paradise.

AVICE
You mock me
As is your custom. Why not say at once
You will not tell me what you shouted for?

RAYMOND
Unreasoning goddess! Said you not on Tuesday
You did not, would not, could not, know one phrase
Or fragment of Love's grammar? Can you judge
Whether I mock or not, explaining it?

AVICE
Why ‘goddess,’ sir

RAYMOND
Because you cannot reason:
Women, we know, are reasoning animals.

AVICE
The worse for them since they consort with men.

RAYMOND
A good retort! Say it again.

AVICE
I know
You must hear oft before you understand.

RAYMOND
Ah, for that cause you are so sweetly zealous
In talking to me always. Now I see!

AVICE
(angry)
I am sure I never wish to talk to you.

RAYMOND
Martyr, how nobly you deny yourself.

HOPE
O, Raymond, do not teaze her!

AVICE
Let it pass.
He has no power to teaze me.

RAYMOND
(imitating her voice) to Hope
Let him talk,
He knows how much I like it; (in his own voice)
why I told you
Only last night how thoroughly she likes me!

AVICE
Did he say so? Did he? I charge you, tell me!
Hope, did he say so when I was not by?
And did you suffer it?

HOPE
Indeed, dear cousin,
We would not hurt you by a word.

AVICE
Be honest
And face my question, do not fence with it;
If this be how you spend your tête-à-têtes
I'm near to scorning you. Why should you care,
You who would have us think you all the world
Each to the other, what another thinks
Of either? Does your sentiment grow flat
And must you spice it with a slander? Fie!
You flourish forth your banners of romance,
Devotion, grandeur, high bewilderment,
And in their shelter, when we think you sitting
Like angels, smoothing down each other's plumes,
You are but pecking at a poor girl's name
Like very common sparrows. I am proud
To be a dunce, below the elements
Of such a science.

HOPE
Will you listen?

RAYMOND
Tut!
She cannot. Take it not so gravely, Hope;
Make life a jest, a battle, or a dream,
Never a sermon! I can hear the laugh
Under this rage.

HOPE
It is a pain to me
That she should think we spoke of her unkindly.

AVICE
Why do you speak of me at all?

RAYMOND
The theme
Is tempting. Teach us (since you know so well
What lovers should not say), teach us our rules;
How should we talk?

AVICE
O, I can criticise
What I would never practise. Love should talk
Of nothing but itself, because, being blind,
It reaches only that which it can feel,
And should discuss no further. (To Hope.)
Why do you touch me?
I said no harm.

HOPE
'Tis nothing. Let it pass.

RAYMOND
I know her meaning and will read it to you.

HOPE
Nay, do not.

RAYMOND
But I will. (To Avice.)
She's such a despot
As would maim languages, and sweep from all
That dreadful word which means the thing I am.
You said that Love was blind, and so have sinned
Scaring me with an image of myself—
Ah, silly Hope! Ere I can be reminded
I must forget.

HOPE
O, if but for one hour
I could beguile you to forget your grief
No victor on his birthday, sunned and wreathed
With a land's homage, were so satisfied
With glory as my heart.

AVICE
I am here too long;
I can encounter mockery with scorn
And do it sweetly; when you lecture me,
I can be gay and talk of something else,
As birds would, if a choir sang psalms to them;
But when you come to turns of sentiment,
To ploughing up with sighs your tender souls
And bandying mutual sugarplums—I'm gone.
Sweet friends, enjoy yourselves, for Time is short,
And Love is lengthy as an Indian calm
To ships which fain would be at home. Farewell,
Joy keep you both!

[Exit Avice.
RAYMOND
There goes a little shrew!
And yet you say that all men flock to her,
Prizing her frown above a wealth of smiles.

HOPE
Her words are harder than her heart.

RAYMOND
They need be,
Else were her heart a nut to crack the steel;
I would not try it.

HOPE
She is beautiful
With more than woman's beauty. Every line
True as cold marble, clothed upon with light
Flushing with change and colour that would charm
In common lineaments; she moves before us
And we believe her not, but every day
Learn her anew, so far her actual face
Exceeds remembrance or conception.

RAYMOND
Pshaw!
Say't not to me. I know a little face
As far before hers as your speech is. Hark,
I'll tell you fairy tales. Say that a wand
Should wake these sleepers (touching his eyes)
, and give back the dawn
To this forgetful darkness, setting me
Once more a man among the multitudes
And capable as they; if then a host
Of rangèd aspects like a theatre
Watched my first flash of sight, I, with that flash,
Would seize your face among them, recognised
By its own lovely meaning.

HOPE
No, revealed
By love to love. I do not doubt you, dear,
Yet is she as far fairer than myself,
As some vast lily than the thready moss
Under your foot unseen; and yet I'll trust you;
You could not miss me, for your heart knows mine
Familiarly, as friends that live together
Know the least accent of each other's tones
Ere they discern a word. I am sure of you.

RAYMOND
Now go, you meek supremacy—the day
Speeds, and our father chides.

HOPE
Will not you come?

RAYMOND
I'll follow.

HOPE
But I cannot leave you here.

RAYMOND
What—here—where every grass-blade knows my foot!
Come, I am fixed.

HOPE
Dear Raymond, let me stay.

RAYMOND
Not a new minute! Such poor drifts of freedom,
And purpose, as my sorrow leaves to me
I'll hoard and use—you would not grudge me them
If you could count their fewness. I am bent
To find my way alone, and please myself
With hollow fancies that I know as much
As men with eyes. You linger?

HOPE
Nay, I am gone.

[Exit Hope. She remains close by the entrance, watching.
RAYMOND
Now, stay! I hardly trust her. All her life
Is full of tender frauds that cheat her friends
Out of their right to suffer. If she went
Fairly, she should be out of call—I'll try.
What! Hope!

Re-enter Hope instantly.
HOPE
Here Raymond—are you hurt?

RAYMOND
Ah, traitress!
You meant to lurk and watch about my steps
Like a deceitful angel. You shall promise;
I know you will not break your word—a woman
Lies seldom with her tongue. Give me your word
That you'll go thoroughly.

HOPE
Well—if I must.

RAYMOND
And put that foolish trouble from your voice.

HOPE
Do not be angry.

RAYMOND
Do not make me so.

HOPE
Not for a world.

RAYMOND
You do it for a whim.
Now would you welcome some swift accident
To teach me my dependence.

HOPE
O, for shame!
'Tis a man's charity to spare the fear
Which he despises. Only for myself
I lingered; now I leave you faithfully,
Be kind and follow soon—I shall scarce breathe
Till I receive you safe.

[Exit Hope.
RAYMOND
So then at last
The moment ripens to my grasp! I hear
The ruffled shingle and the parting fern
As that quick foot springs upward. Are you there?