  The Lady. The sun is setting, we have passed the mill Some time; the house is near Waunona Hill, But the road smooth this way—which doth account For the discrepancy of names. The gleam Of the low sun shines out beneath that mass Of purple thunder-cloud; when we surmount This little swell of land, its slanting beam The steely hue, the blue of the Blue Grass. . . . . . . . . . . That is the house off on the right; I know By intuition. The Maiden. It may hold—the worst! The Lady. Art faint? The Maiden. ’Twill pass. Lady, I enter first— First and alone! The Lady. Child, if I thought his heart Longed for the sight of you, I’d let you go; Nay, I would make you! As it is— But no, It cannot be. The Maiden (clasping her hands). Lord, give me strength! I yield; Go you the first. Ah! [Sobs. The Lady. Yours the nobler part; I cannot yield. (And yet it is for him With that unflinching conscience-power! See, dim Mine eyes— There; we will go together—thus! God help us both! [They enter the house. Yes, we have come, we two, His nearest, dearest. Is it perilous, The fever? Where—above? That stair? We go— Come, child—come, child. Woman of the House. Dear ladies, you should know Before— The Lady. Come! Woman of the House. He— The Lady. Child, must I wait for you Here at his door! The Maiden. I come; but something cold Has touched my heart. The Lady. Then stay, coward! The Maiden. Nay, hold; I come. [They mount the stairs together. (Crying out above.) But he is dead—my Willie! The Lady (above). Fate, You’ve gained the day at last! Yes, he is dead! |
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