Page:Scribners Vol 37-1905.djvu/546

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Vittoria
You knew? And yet you shut away from me,For all these many years, this greater hope?Oh, till he came, the sky has seemed so near,And life so little, with no farther reachThan daily custom, endlessly the same!How, having known this once, could you shrink backTo smaller measure? For to grasp one thoughtSo great is knowledge.
 Father.great is knowledge. ‍How her eyes scorn me!
 Vittoria. Padre, forgive, forgive! Of each white hairI beg forgetfulness for my quick words.Life has so suddenly grown great that IHave lost my way therein. What I have learnedIn the deep silence round him through this hourNothing can take away.
 Father.can take away. ‍Her body glowsAs with some knowledge shining through, and sheSeems not to know the very use of tears.When will she learn her loss? Child of my heart,I too must leave you now, not to return:Great service draws me, and my death is near:I may not stay to share this bitter grief.Most cruel has this hour been to you,But, living in the villa by the sea,May the years teach you that the hand that struckWounded in vain attempt to save. Farewell!I would have spared you sorrow like my own!
 Vittoria (kissing his hand). Father, you, too?   What is this secret, then,That you, my best-beloved, share, while IAm shut outside? Into the glory youFollow his footsteps, leaving me behind.Oh, it means change and splendor; and the thoughtOf hidden beauty waiting to be wonQuickens my pulse. My heart has never stirredSo with a sense of great approach.
 Father.with a sense of great approach. ‍Farewell!Go to Teresa, dear, and you are safe.[He speaks to himself as he moves away.Even yet I fear she has no slightest senseOf that which parting means. God, art thou there?Watch over her when I may watch no more!
 Vittoria (watching, as he scales the cliff). The  poor frail hands can hardly keep their graspTo aid the weary climbing, step by step.When in that wrinkled face the great light breaksThat he calls death, I would that I might see![Her eyes follow him until he disappears; thenshe turns to her lover.Dearest, I take you in my arms again.See, here I kiss your hair, and here your sleeve,And then your eyelids. You would have it soThat my first kiss must fall upon your eyes:So shall the last. Never were you my ownSo much as now. I did not know you then!This is a beauty that you did not haveBack in the garden, even the first timeYou said you loved me. In the quiet hereThere lingers something that I would not changeFor all the sunshine and the words of love,Thrilled through with scent of roses. Here I crossYour hands upon your breast. I hunger, dear,For this eternity enfolding you.A fall from off the cliff, my father said,Will fashion me like this. My life leaps upExultingly to meet this joy of death.The silences shall not be silence now![She bends once more over the dead face.I follow where you lead.[She springs from the cliff.


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