A Blot In The 'Scutcheon [14]
Not one least word on your life! Be sure that I will strangle in your throat The least word that informs me how you live And yet seem what you seem! No doubt 'twas you Taught Mildred still to keep that face and sin. We should join hands in frantic sympathy If you once taught me the unteachable, Explained how you can live so and so lie. With God's help I retain, despite my sense, The old belief--a life like yours is still Impossible. Now draw!
MERTOUN. Not for my sake, Do I entreat a hearing--for your sake, And most, for her sake!
TRESHAM. Ha, ha, what should I Know of your ways? A miscreant like yourself, How must one rouse his ire? A blow?--that's pride No doubt, to him! One spurns him, does one not? Or sets the foot upon his mouth, or spits Into his face! Come! Which, or all of these?
MERTOUN. 'Twixt him and me and Mildred, Heaven be judge! Can I avoid this? Have your will, my lord! [He draws and, after a few passes, falls.]
TRESHAM. You are not hurt?
MERTOUN. You'll hear me now!
TRESHAM. But rise!
MERTOUN. Ah, Tresham, say I not "you'll hear me now!" And what procures a man the right to speak In his defence before his fellow man, But--I suppose--the thought that presently He may have leave to speak before his God His whole defence?
TRESHAM. Not hurt? It cannot be! You made no effort to resist me. Where Did my sword reach you? Why not have returned My thrusts? Hurt where?
MERTOUN. My lord--
TRESHAM. How young he is!
MERTOUN. Lord Tresham, I am very young, and yet I have entangled other lives with mine. Do let me speak, and do believe my speech! That when I die before you presently,--
TRESHAM. Can you stay here till I return with help?
MERTOUN. Oh, stay by me! When I was less than boy I did you grievous wrong and knew it not-- Upon my honour, knew it not! Once known, I could not find what seemed a better way To right you than I took: my life--you feel How less than nothing were the giving you The life you've taken! But I thought my way The better--only for your sake and hers: And as you have decided otherwise, Would I had an infinity of lives To offer you! Now say--instruct me--think! Can you, from the brief minutes I have left, Eke out my reparation? Oh think--think! For I must wring a partial--dare I say, Forgiveness from you, ere I die?
TRESHAM. I do Forgive you.
MERTOUN. Wait and ponder that great word! Because, if you forgive me, I shall hope To speak to you of--Mildred!
TRESHAM. Mertoun, haste And anger have undone us. 'Tis not you Should tell me for a novelty you're young, Thoughtless, unable to recall the past. Be but your pardon ample as my own!
MERTOUN. Ah, Tresham, that a sword-stroke and a drop Of blood or two, should bring all this about Why, 'twas my very fear of you, my love Of you--(what passion like a boy's for one Like you?)--that ruined me! I dreamed of you-- You, all accomplished, courted everywhere, The scholar and the gentleman. I burned To knit myself to you: but I was young, And your surpassing reputation kept me So far aloof! Oh, wherefore all that love? With less of love, my glorious yesterday Of praise and gentlest words and kindest looks, Had taken place perchance six months ago. Even now, how happy we had been! And yet I know the thought of this escaped you, Tresham! Let me look up into your face; I feel 'Tis changed above me: yet my eyes are glazed. Where? where? [As he endeavours to raise himself, his eye catches the lamp.] Ah, Mildred! What will Mildred do? Tresham, her life is bound up in the life That's bleeding fast away! I'll live--must live, There, if you'll only turn me I shall live And save her! Tresham--oh, had you but heard! Had you but heard! What right was yours to set The thoughtless foot upon her life and mine, And then say, as we perish, "Had I thought, All had gone otherwise"? We've sinned
MERTOUN. Not for my sake, Do I entreat a hearing--for your sake, And most, for her sake!
TRESHAM. Ha, ha, what should I Know of your ways? A miscreant like yourself, How must one rouse his ire? A blow?--that's pride No doubt, to him! One spurns him, does one not? Or sets the foot upon his mouth, or spits Into his face! Come! Which, or all of these?
MERTOUN. 'Twixt him and me and Mildred, Heaven be judge! Can I avoid this? Have your will, my lord! [He draws and, after a few passes, falls.]
TRESHAM. You are not hurt?
MERTOUN. You'll hear me now!
TRESHAM. But rise!
MERTOUN. Ah, Tresham, say I not "you'll hear me now!" And what procures a man the right to speak In his defence before his fellow man, But--I suppose--the thought that presently He may have leave to speak before his God His whole defence?
TRESHAM. Not hurt? It cannot be! You made no effort to resist me. Where Did my sword reach you? Why not have returned My thrusts? Hurt where?
MERTOUN. My lord--
TRESHAM. How young he is!
MERTOUN. Lord Tresham, I am very young, and yet I have entangled other lives with mine. Do let me speak, and do believe my speech! That when I die before you presently,--
TRESHAM. Can you stay here till I return with help?
MERTOUN. Oh, stay by me! When I was less than boy I did you grievous wrong and knew it not-- Upon my honour, knew it not! Once known, I could not find what seemed a better way To right you than I took: my life--you feel How less than nothing were the giving you The life you've taken! But I thought my way The better--only for your sake and hers: And as you have decided otherwise, Would I had an infinity of lives To offer you! Now say--instruct me--think! Can you, from the brief minutes I have left, Eke out my reparation? Oh think--think! For I must wring a partial--dare I say, Forgiveness from you, ere I die?
TRESHAM. I do Forgive you.
MERTOUN. Wait and ponder that great word! Because, if you forgive me, I shall hope To speak to you of--Mildred!
TRESHAM. Mertoun, haste And anger have undone us. 'Tis not you Should tell me for a novelty you're young, Thoughtless, unable to recall the past. Be but your pardon ample as my own!
MERTOUN. Ah, Tresham, that a sword-stroke and a drop Of blood or two, should bring all this about Why, 'twas my very fear of you, my love Of you--(what passion like a boy's for one Like you?)--that ruined me! I dreamed of you-- You, all accomplished, courted everywhere, The scholar and the gentleman. I burned To knit myself to you: but I was young, And your surpassing reputation kept me So far aloof! Oh, wherefore all that love? With less of love, my glorious yesterday Of praise and gentlest words and kindest looks, Had taken place perchance six months ago. Even now, how happy we had been! And yet I know the thought of this escaped you, Tresham! Let me look up into your face; I feel 'Tis changed above me: yet my eyes are glazed. Where? where? [As he endeavours to raise himself, his eye catches the lamp.] Ah, Mildred! What will Mildred do? Tresham, her life is bound up in the life That's bleeding fast away! I'll live--must live, There, if you'll only turn me I shall live And save her! Tresham--oh, had you but heard! Had you but heard! What right was yours to set The thoughtless foot upon her life and mine, And then say, as we perish, "Had I thought, All had gone otherwise"? We've sinned