Collected Works (Vol. I)

THE MOTHER'S TRAGEDY 159 ULRIC (surprised). Sweet ! you speak of love! You must have guessed I meant to question you, And smoothed the passage to my modesty. CORA (wath better sorrow at her heart). You make me very glad. Yes, yes, indeed, Love is my meaning. Does it shame me much To talk so openly of love to you? But Iam old enough to be—to be-—— ULRIC (breaking right out). My wife! O Cora, I have loved you so! My heart is like a fountain of the sea. I burn, I tremble; in my veins there swims A torrid ecstasy of madness. Ah! Ah God! I kiss you, kiss you! O you faint! Swectheart, my passion overwhelms your soul. Your virginal sweet spirit cannot reach My fury. You are silent. Yet you love! I read it in the terror of your eyes, The crimson of your burning face. I know you love me! me! O she will rough— My overmastering desire to you— My queen, my wife, this maddens me. I know, Cora, Cora, tell die! JI would not—I was CORA (recove: zig). You fool! You beast! I hate you for your stupid self ! Tamdefiled! Go! Touch menot! Speak not ! Tam accursed of the Lord my God. [.SArzeks, Uxric (sttl/ passzonate, yet frill of tender concern). Darling! my darling! How have I done this? CORA. Fool! It is madness! Yes, and punish- ment. O God, that all my love should come to this ! You, you are mad! I speak of love, and you, You—you are acting! I was taken in! Let’s laugh about it ! [7ries to laugh, sinks back. It was not well done. [ULRIC zs s7let, and, puzzled, watts jor her to go on. Surely you knew that it was Madeline ! ULRIC. What ! I should wed that pretty Puritan? The downcast eyes and delicate white throat, The lily, when I saw the rose before me? Your full delicious beauty was as God ! You are a bunch of admirable grapes Fit to intoxicate my being! Yes! I would not give that sunny fruit of yours For twenty such frail flowers as Madeline. IT am a man—you mate me with a girl ! CORA. Stop! not a word! My blasphemy to hear, Yours to speak out—when you are told the truth ! ULRIC. What truth? sound. , The truth! hell If but it stand between us and our love ! This word hath first an ugly God curse it to His blackest