A FORGIVENESS.

I am indeed the personage you know.

As for my wife,- what happened long ago

You have a right to question me, as I

Am bound to answer.

Thus then all happened, Father! Power and place

I had as still I have. I ran life's race,

With the whole world to see, as only strains

His strength some athlete whose prodigious gains Of good appall him: happy to excess,

Work freely done should balance happiness.

Fully enjoyed; and, since beneath my roof

Housed she who made home heaven, in heaven's

behoof

I went forth every day, and all day long

Worked for the world. Look, how the laborer's song Cheers him! Thus sang my soul, at each sharp throe

Of laboring flesh and blood—" She loves me so !"

One day, perhaps such song so knit the nerve
That work grew play and vanished. "I deserve
Haply my heaven an hour before the time !"
I laughed, as silverly the clockhouse-chime
Surprised me passing through the postern-gate
- Not the main entry where the menials wait
And wonder why the world's affairs allow
The master sudden leisure. That was how
I took the private garden-way for once.

Forth from the alcove, I saw start, ensconce
Himself behind the porphyry vase, a man.

My fancies in the natural order ran:

"A spy, perhaps a foe in ambuscade,

A thief,― more like, a sweetheart of some maid
Who pitched on the alcove for tryst perhaps."

"Stand there!" I bid.

Whereat my man but wraps

His face the closelier with uplifted arm

Whereon the cloak lies, strikes in blind alarm
This and that pedestal as,-stretch and stoop,—
Now in, now out of sight, he thrids the group

Of statues, marble god and goddess ranged
Each side the pathway, till the gate's exchanged

For safety one step thence, the street, you know!

Thus far I followed my gaze. Then, slow,
Near on admiringly, I breathed again,
And-back to that last fancy of the train-
"A danger risked for hope of just a word
With - which of all my nest may be the bird
This poacher covets for her plumage, pray?
Carmen? Juana? Carmen seems too gay
For such adventure, while Juana's grave

Would scorn the folly. I applaud the knave! He had the eye, could single from my brood His proper fledgling!"

As I turned, there stood

In face of me, my wife stone-still stone-white.

Whether one bound had brought her, at first sight
Of what she judged the encounter, sure to be
Next moment, of the venturous man and me,—
Brought her to clutch and keep me from my prey,
Whether impelled because her death no day
Could come so absolutely opportune

As now at joy's height, like a year in June
Stayed at the fall of its first ripened rose;

Or whether hungry for my hate- who knows?
Eager to end an irksome lie, and taste

Our tingling true relation, hate embraced

By hate one naked moment:

anyhow

---

There stone-still stone-white stood my wife, but now

The woman who made heaven within my house.

Ay, she who faced me was my very spouse

As well as love— you are to recollect!

66

Stay!" she said.

"Keep at least one soul un

specked

With crime, that's spotless hitherto - your own!

Kill me who court the blessing, who alone
Was, am and shall be guilty, first to last!
The man lay helpless in the toils I cast

About him, helpless as the statue there
Against that strangling bell-flower's bondage: tear
Away and tread to dust the parasite,

But do the passive marble no despite !

I love him as I hate you. Kill me!

At one blow both infinitudes alike

Out of existence hate and love!

-

Strike

Whence love?

That's safe within my heart, nor will remove
For any searching of your steel, I think.

Whence hate? The secret lay on lip, at brink
Of speech, in one fierce tremble to escape,

At every form wherein your love took shape,
At each new provocation of your kiss.

Kill me!"

We went in.

Next day after this,

I felt as if the speech might come. I spoke

Easily, after all.