Volume II Part 22 (1/2)

LVI.

It was thus I reeled. I told you that her hand had many suitors; But she smiles them down imperially as Venus did the waves, And with such a gracious coldness that they cannot press their futures On the present of her courtesy, which yieldingly enslaves.

LVII.

And this morning as I sat alone within the inner chamber With the great saloon beyond it, lost in pleasant thought serene, For I had been reading Camoens, that poem you remember, Which his lady's eyes are praised in as the sweetest ever seen.

LVIII.

And the book lay open, and my thought flew from it, taking from it A vibration and impulsion to an end beyond its own, As the branch of a green osier, when a child would overcome it, Springs up freely from his claspings and goes swinging in the sun.

LIX.

As I mused I heard a murmur; it grew deep as it grew longer, Speakers using earnest language--”Lady Geraldine, you _would_!”

And I heard a voice that pleaded, ever on in accents stronger, As a sense of reason gave it power to make its rhetoric good.

LX.

Well I knew that voice; it was an earl's, of soul that matched his station, Soul completed into lords.h.i.+p, might and right read on his brow; Very finely courteous; far too proud to doubt his domination Of the common people, he atones for grandeur by a bow.

LXI.

High straight forehead, nose of eagle, cold blue eyes of less expression Than resistance, coldly casting off the looks of other men, As steel, arrows; unelastic lips which seem to taste possession And be cautious lest the common air should injure or distrain.

LXII.

For the rest, accomplished, upright,--ay, and standing by his order With a bearing not ungraceful; fond of art and letters too; Just a good man made a proud man,--as the sandy rocks that border A wild coast, by circ.u.mstances, in a regnant ebb and flow.

LXIII.

Thus, I knew that voice, I heard it, and I could not help the hearkening: In the room I stood up blindly, and my burning heart within Seemed to seethe and fuse my senses till they ran on all sides darkening, And scorched, weighed like melted metal round my feet that stood therein.

LXIV.

And that voice, I heard it pleading, for love's sake, for wealth, position, For the sake of liberal uses and great actions to be done: And she interrupted gently, ”Nay, my lord, the old tradition Of your Normans, by some worthier hand than mine is, should be won.”

LXV.

”Ah, that white hand!” he said quickly,--and in his he either drew it Or attempted--for with gravity and instance she replied, ”Nay, indeed, my lord, this talk is vain, and we had best eschew it And pa.s.s on, like friends, to other points less easy to decide.”

LXVI.

What he said again, I know not: it is likely that his trouble Worked his pride up to the surface, for she answered in slow scorn, ”And your lords.h.i.+p judges rightly. Whom I marry shall be n.o.ble, Ay, and wealthy. I shall never blush to think how he was born.”

LXVII.

There, I maddened! her words stung me. Life swept through me into fever, And my soul sprang up astonished, sprang full-statured in an hour.

Know you what it is when anguish, with apocalyptic NEVER, To a Pythian height dilates you, and despair sublimes to power?

LXVIII.