The Noble Lady’s Tale

I

&nbsp "We moved with pensive paces,
&nbsp       &nbsp I and he,
&nbsp And bent our faded faces
&nbsp       &nbsp Wistfully,
For something troubled him, and troubled me.

&nbsp "The lanthorn feebly lightened
&nbsp       &nbsp Our grey hall,
&nbsp Where ancient brands had brightened
&nbsp       &nbsp Hearth and wall,
And shapes long vanished whither vanish all.

&nbsp "'O why, Love, nightly, daily,'
&nbsp       &nbsp I had said,
&nbsp 'Dost sigh, and smile so palely,
&nbsp       &nbsp As if shed
Were all Life's blossoms, all its dear things dead?'

&nbsp "'Since silence sets thee grieving,'
&nbsp       &nbsp He replied,
&nbsp 'And I abhor deceiving
&nbsp       &nbsp One so tried,
Why, Love, I'll speak, ere time us twain divide.'

&nbsp "He held me, I remember,
&nbsp       &nbsp Just as when
&nbsp Our life was June—(September
&nbsp       &nbsp It was then);
And we walked on, until he spoke again.

&nbsp "'Susie, an Irish mummer,
&nbsp       &nbsp Loud-acclaimed
&nbsp Through the gay London summer,
&nbsp       &nbsp Was I; named
A master in my art, who would be famed.

&nbsp "'But lo, there beamed before me
&nbsp       &nbsp Lady Su;
&nbsp God's altar-vow she swore me
&nbsp       &nbsp When none knew,
And for her sake I bade the sock adieu.

&nbsp "'My Lord your father's pardon
&nbsp       &nbsp Thus I won:
&nbsp He let his heart unharden
&nbsp       &nbsp Towards his son,
And honourably condoned what we had done;

&nbsp "'But said—recall you, dearest? -
&nbsp       &nbsp As for Su,
&nbsp I'd see her—ay, though nearest
&nbsp       &nbsp Me unto -
Sooner entombed than in a stage purlieu!

&nbsp "'Just so.—And here he housed us,
&nbsp       &nbsp In this nook,
&nbsp Where Love like balm has drowsed us:
&nbsp       &nbsp Robin, rook,
Our chief familiars, next to string and book.

&nbsp "'Our days here, peace-enshrouded,
&nbsp       &nbsp Followed strange
&nbsp The old stage-joyance, crowded,
&nbsp       &nbsp Rich in range;
But never did my soul desire a change,

&nbsp "'Till now, when far uncertain
&nbsp       &nbsp Lips of yore
&nbsp Call, call me to the curtain,
&nbsp       &nbsp There once more,
But ONCE, to tread the boards I trod before.

&nbsp "'A night—the last and single
&nbsp       &nbsp Ere I die -
&nbsp To face the lights, to mingle
&nbsp       &nbsp As did I
Once in the game, and rivet every eye!'

&nbsp "'To something drear, distressing
&nbsp       &nbsp As the knell
&nbsp Of all hopes worth possessing!' . . .
&nbsp        &nbsp —What befell
Seemed linked with me, but how I could not tell.

&nbsp "Hours passed; till I implored him,
&nbsp       &nbsp As he knew
&nbsp How faith and frankness toward him
&nbsp       &nbsp Ruled me through,
To say what ill I had done, and could undo.

&nbsp "'FAITH—FRANKNESS. Ah! Heaven save such!'
&nbsp       &nbsp Murmured he,
&nbsp 'They are wedded wealth! I gave such
&nbsp       &nbsp Liberally,
But you, Dear, not. For you suspected me.'

&nbsp "I was about beseeching
&nbsp       &nbsp In hurt haste
&nbsp More meaning, when he, reaching
&nbsp       &nbsp To my waist,
Led me to pace the hall as once we paced.

&nbsp "'I never meant to draw you
&nbsp       &nbsp To own all,'
&nbsp Declared he. 'But—I SAW you -
&nbsp       &nbsp By the wall,
Half-hid. And that was why I failed withal!'

&nbsp "'Where? when?' said I—'Why, nigh me,
&nbsp       &nbsp At the play
&nbsp That night. That you should spy me,
&nbsp       &nbsp Doubt my fay,
And follow, furtive, took my heart away!'

&nbsp "That I had never been there,
&nbsp       &nbsp But had gone
&nbsp To my locked room—unseen there,
&nbsp       &nbsp Curtains drawn,
Long days abiding—told I, wonder-wan.

&nbsp "'Nay, 'twas your form and vesture,
&nbsp       &nbsp Cloak and gown,
&nbsp Your hooded features—gesture
&nbsp       &nbsp Half in frown,
That faced me, pale,' he urged, 'that night in town.

&nbsp "'And when, outside, I handed
&nbsp       &nbsp To her chair
&nbsp (As courtesy demanded
&nbsp       &nbsp Of me there)
The leading lady, you peeped from the stair.

&nbsp "Straight pleaded I: 'Forsooth, Love,
&nbsp       &nbsp Had I gone,
&nbsp I must have been in truth, Love,
&nbsp       &nbsp Mad to don
Such well-known raiment.' But he still went on

&nbsp "That he was not mistaken
&nbsp       &nbsp Nor misled. -
&nbsp I felt like one forsaken,
&nbsp       &nbsp Wished me dead,
That he could think thus of the wife he had wed!

&nbsp "His going seemed to waste him
&nbsp       &nbsp Like a curse,
&nbsp To wreck what once had graced him;
&nbsp       &nbsp And, averse
To my approach, he mused, and moped, and worse.

&nbsp "Till, what no words effected
&nbsp       &nbsp Thought achieved:
&nbsp IT WAS MY WRAITH—projected,
&nbsp       &nbsp He conceived,
Thither, by my tense brain at home aggrieved.

&nbsp "Thereon his credence centred
&nbsp       &nbsp Till he died;
&nbsp And, no more tempted, entered
&nbsp       &nbsp Sanctified,
The little vault with room for one beside."

III

&nbsp Thus far the lady's story. -
&nbsp       &nbsp Now she, too,
&nbsp Reclines within that hoary
&nbsp       &nbsp Last dark mew
In Mellstock Quire with him she loved so true.

&nbsp A yellowing marble, placed there
&nbsp       &nbsp Tablet-wise,
&nbsp And two joined hearts enchased there
&nbsp       &nbsp Meet the eyes;
And reading their twin names we moralize:

&nbsp Did she, we wonder, follow
&nbsp       &nbsp Jealously?
&nbsp And were those protests hollow? -
&nbsp       &nbsp Or saw he
Some semblant dame? Or can wraiths really be?

&nbsp Were it she went, her honour,
&nbsp       &nbsp All may hold,
&nbsp Pressed truth at last upon her
&nbsp       &nbsp Till she told -
(Him only—others as these lines unfold.)

&nbsp Riddle death-sealed for ever,
&nbsp       &nbsp Let it rest! . . .
&nbsp One's heart could blame her never
&nbsp       &nbsp If one guessed
That go she did. She knew her actor best.