WHAT'S HOT
Prev | Current Page 43 | Next

Browning, Robert, 1812-1889

"A Blot in the 'Scutcheon"

.. Ah, I catch
--Woods, river, plains, I catch your meaning now,
And I obey you! Hist! This tree will serve.
[He retires behind one of the trees. After a pause,
enter MERTOUN cloaked as before.]
MERTOUN. Not time! Beat out thy last voluptuous beat
Of hope and fear, my heart! I thought the clock
I' the chapel struck as I was pushing through
The ferns. And so I shall no more see rise
My love-star! Oh, no matter for the past!
So much the more delicious task to watch
Mildred revive: to pluck out, thorn by thorn,
All traces of the rough forbidden path
My rash love lured her to! Each day must see
Some fear of hers effaced, some hope renewed:
Then there will be surprises, unforeseen
Delights in store. I'll not regret the past.
[The light is placed above in the purple pane.]
And see, my signal rises, Mildred's star!
I never saw it lovelier than now
It rises for the last time. If it sets,
'Tis that the re-assuring sun may dawn.
[As he prepares to ascend the last tree of the avenue,
TRESHAM arrests his arm.]
Unhand me--peasant, by your grasp! Here's gold.
'Twas a mad freak of mine. I said I'd pluck
A branch from the white-blossomed shrub beneath
The casement there. Take this, and hold your peace.
TRESHAM. Into the moonlight yonder, come with me!
Out of the shadow!
MERTOUN. I am armed, fool!
TRESHAM. Yes,
Or no? You'll come into the light, or no?
My hand is on your throat--refuse!--
MERTOUN.


Pages:
31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55