Thomas Hardy — The Noble Ladys 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.