_Jean_.

O, you are come again!

_Morris_.

Has he been here, That blackguard, with some insolence to you?

_Jean_.

Who?

_Morris_.

Why, that Hamish.

_Jean_.

Hamish? No, not he.

_Morris_.

I thought--you seemed so breathless--

_Jean_.

But you've come Again! May I not be glad of your coming?

Yes, and a little breathless?--Did you come Only because you thought I might be bullied?

_Morris_.

O, no, no, no, Only for you I came.

_Jean_.

And that's what I was hoping.

_Morris_.

If you could know How it has been with me, since I saw you!

_Jean_.

What can I know of your mind?--For my own Is hard enough to know,--save that I'm glad You've come again,--and that I should have cried If you'd not kept your word.

_Morris_.

My word?--to see Hamish does nothing to you?

_Jean_.

The fiend take Hamish!

Do you think I'ld be afraid of him?--It's you I ought to be afraid of, were I wise.

_Morris_.

Good G.o.d, she's crying!

_Jean_.

Cannot you understand?

_Morris_.

O darling, is it so? I prayed for this All night, and yet it's unbelievable.

_Jean_.

You too, Morris?

_Morris_.

There's nothing living in me But love for you, my sweetheart.

_Jean_.

And you are mine, My sweetheart!--And now, Morris, now you know Why you are the man that ought to frighten me!-- Morris, I love you so!

_Morris_.

O, but better than this, Jean, you must love me. You must never think I'm like the heartless men you wait on here, Whose love is all a hunger that cares naught How hatefully endured its feasting must be By her who fills it, so it be well glutted!

_Jean_.

I did not say I was afraid of you; But only that, perhaps, I ought to be.

_Morris_.

No, no, you never ought. My love is one That will not have its pa.s.sion venturous; It knows itself too fine a ceremony To risk its whole perfection even by one Unruly thought of the luxury in love.

Nay, rather it is the quietness of power, That knows there is no turbulence in life Dare the least questioning hindrance set against The onward of its going,--therefore quiet, All gentle. But strong, Jean, wondrously strong!

_Jean_.

Yes, love is strong. I have well thought of that.

It drops as fiercely down on us as if We were to be its prey. I've seen a gull That hovered with beak pointing and eyes fixt Where, underneath its swaying flight, some fish Was trifling, fooling in the waves: then, souse!

And the gull has fed. And love on us has fed.

_Morris_.

Indeed 'tis a sudden coming; but I grieve To hear you make of love a cruelty.

Sweetheart, it shall be nothing cruel to you!

You shall not fear, in doing what love bids, Ever to know yourself unmaidenly.

For see! here's my first kiss; and all my love Is signed in it; and it is on your hand.-- Is that a thing to fear?--But it were best I go now. This should be a privacy, Not even your lover near, this hour of first Strange knowledge that you have accepted love.

I think you would feel me prying, if I stayed While your heart falters into full perceiving That you are plighted now forever mine.

G.o.d bless you, Jean, my sweetheart.--Not a word?

But you will thank me soon for leaving you: 'Tis the best courtesy I can do.

[_He goes_.

_Jean_.

O, and I thought it was my love at last!

I thought, from the look he had last night, I'd found That great, brave, irresistible love!--But this!

It's like a man deformed, with half his limbs.

Am I never to have the love I dream and need, Pouring over me, into me, winds of fire?

HAMISH _comes in_.

_Hamish_.

Well? What's the mood to-night?--The girl's been crying!

This should be something queer.

_Jean_.

It's you are to blame: You brought him here!