Con. This night she swears obedience to me! Wondrous Lord!How hast Thou opened a path, where my young dreamsMay find fulfilment: there are propheciesUpon her, make me bold. Why comes she not?She should be here by now. Strange, how I shrink—I, who ne’er yet felt fear of man or fiend.Obedience to my will! An awful charge!But yet, to have the training of her sainthood;To watch her rise above this wild world’s wavesLike floating water-lily, towards heaven’s lightOpening its virgin snows, with golden eyeMirroring the golden sun; to be her champion,And war with fiends for her; that were a ‘quest’;That were true chivalry; to bring my JudgeThis jewel for His crown; this noble soul,Worth thousand prudish clods of barren clay,Who mope for heaven because earth’s grapes are sour—Her, full of youth, flushed with the heart’s rich first-fruits,Tangled in earthly pomp—and earthly love.Wife? Saint by her face she should be: with such looksThe queen of heaven, perchance, slow pacing cameAdown our sleeping wards, when DominicSank fainting, drunk with beauty:—she is most fair!Pooh! I know nought of fairness—this I know,She calls herself my slave, with such an airAs speaks her queen, not slave; that shall be looked to—She must be pinioned or she will range abroadUpon too bold a wing; ’t will cost her pain—But what of that? there are worse things than pain—What! not yet here? I’ll in, and there await herIn prayer before the altar: I have need on’t:And shall have more before this harvest’s ripe.

[As Conrad goes out, Elizabeth, Isentrudis, and Guta enter.]

Eliz. I saw him just before us: let us onward;We must not seem to loiter.

Isen. Then you promiseExact obedience to his sole directionHenceforth in every scruple?

Eliz. In all I can,And be a wife.

Guta. Is it not a double bondage?A husband’s will is clog enough. Be sure,Though free, I crave more freedom.

Eliz. So do I—This servitude shall free me—from myself.Therefore I’ll swear.

Isen. To what?

Eliz. I know not wholly:But this I know, that I shall swear to-nightTo yield my will unto a wiser will;To see God’s truth through eyes which, like the eagle’s,From higher Alps undazzled eye the sun.Compelled to discipline from which my slothWould shrink, unbidden,—to deep devious pathsWhich my dull sight would miss, I now can plunge,And dare life’s 

 Prev. P 36/124 next