Part 11

Hel. That grey infinitude is yet the circle of your being. The mind can not leave itself. You are always in your own country. Why should you fear?

Poe. The mind that can not leave itself knows nothing. Not the 'I am' but 'Thou art' is God. O, there is a realm of which imagination is but a shadow--where the mind is burnt away in His vision's fire, and thought becomes celestial angel of itself! And you turn back with the first step--already I am alone--

Hel. No! I, too, have hung upon the boundaries of the world to catch God's flying dreams! O, trust me! Thou shalt fling no lance but I will cast it on to gleam in a farther sun! Bring me roses from Jupiter, I'll bring thee lilies from Uranus! O,--

Poe. Mine, by Heaven! (Catches her to him) Here we'll begin the immortal pilgrimage! We need not wait for death! From world to world--

Hel. (Springing from him) It _is_ a step! Go, Edgar! Go!

Poe. No! By the god in my bosom, you are mine from this moment!

Hel. My father! my father! He will tear me from you--You do not know him!

Poe. I know he's mortal. Heaven could not part us. I will not move!

(He is standing in the window. She hastily draws the curtain before him)

Hel. Then keep your word!

(A knock at the door. Helen is silent)

Voice. Helen?

Hel. It is you, Roger? Come in.

(Roger enters, carrying a lamp. Looks about and sees Helen.)

Rog. I heard voices.... Who was with you, Helen?... I could not be mistaken.... (puts lamp on a table, and comes nearer Helen.) Look at me, Helen.... I am your brother. Who was here?... I know that Love has laid his mighty hand upon you, but yet you are an angel. I thought--it was--his voice.... Tell me what this means.... _He_ was not here! O, I shall die when I learn that you are but a woman!

Poe. (Leaping out) I am here, sir, to defend that lady's honor!

Rog. (Staggers back, regains composure, and bows ironically) I rejoice to hear it, sir, for you alone can do it. It is wholly in your keeping. (Turns to go)

Hel. Roger!

Rog. Madam.

Hel. You forsake me?

Rog. You have forsaken yourself.

Hel. Oh! (Swoons. Poe bends over her wildly affectionate. Roger stands apart, proud and despairing)

Poe. Helen! Speak! Speak to me!

Hel. Leave me! Leave me!

Poe. It is I, Helen! Your lover! Edgar!

Hel. You, you, I mean! (Rising) Thou wing of hell across my life! Away from me!

(Poe stands back speechless with bewilderment. Roger goes to Helen, takes her hand, and leads her from the room)

Poe. Lost! lost! lost! (Looks about the room) This place!... O, I was mad to come here!... She will never forgive me! (Falls on the couch and lies motionless. After a moment enter Mrs. Delormis.)

Mrs. Del. Where is the wild man?... Oh, he has fainted! The wine! (Goes to the table and pours wine)

Poe. Oh!

(Mrs. Delormis turns to him. He rises ceremoniously, with effort) Well?

Mrs. Del. Well, indeed! Here I am to your rescue, and you reward me with a 'well' (mimicking) up to ceiling.

Poe. What are they saying to her? I must go to her! I must!

Mrs. Del. Must _not_! Listen! (Grasps his arm to detain him)

Poe. (Releasing his arm and bowing stiffly) Mrs. Delormis.

Mrs. D. (Copying his manner) Mr. Poe!... Mr. Truelord has not yet been roused. No one will wake him unless you choose to do it yourself by increasing the hubbub. Roger defends you to Mrs. Truelord--says you are ill--out of your senses--and other complimentary things. Both of them are soothing and mothering Helen, and--(dropping into tenderness) I wanted you to have a little mothering, too--

Poe. Do you really want to help me?

Mrs. Del. O, if you would only let me be your friend!

Poe. You may! Stay here with me till she comes! I know she will come. She can not let me go without one word. It would be too terrible. She can not! Stay till she comes. Talk to me. Do not let me think!

Mrs. Del. I'll make myself comfortable then, and we'll have a good chat. You know I've been told that I talk my best between two and three in the morning.

(Takes pillow from couch to make herself cosy in chair)

Poe. Do not touch that pillow!

Mrs. Del. (Dropping into chair) Well!

Poe. Do not sit in that chair!

Mrs. Del. (Rising) May I stand on the carpet, or shall I take off my slippers before the burning bush of your love?

Poe. Forgive me! Don't you see that I have lost her?

Mrs. Del. Well, you _were_ out of your senses to come here and think Helen would understand it.

Poe. I was not! She did understand! The vision that led me to her feet was as clear as an archangel's! It is now that I am mad, and see everything gross and darkened with earth and flesh! (Overcome, sinks on couch. She hastily brings wine)

Mrs. Del. Drink it. You must.

Poe. No! You offer me hell! And you know it. Put it down. If you want to help me, go to her and bring me one word.

Mrs. Del. Drink this for me, and I will.

Poe. (Taking glass) You will?... No! (Puts glass down)

Mrs. Del. My dear boy, you are too weak to stand! It's that old habit of not eating. I don't believe you have tasted food for days.

Poe. True ... but.... (Faints. Mrs. Delormis gives him wine. He rouses)

Mrs. Del. Now will you kill me?

Poe. (Brightening) No. You were right. 'Twas what I needed. 'T will keep life in me till she comes. Go to her now. Tell her I will leave her--I will go away for a year--a thousand years--if she will only say I may come back some day. I will live in a desert and pray myself to the bone! Bring me one word from her--a curse--anything!

Mrs. Del. (Pouring wine) A little more of this then, so I shall be sure to find you alive when I return.

Poe. (Drinks eagerly) 'Tis life! Life! I've drunk of Cretan wines against whose fragrant tide the Venus-rose poured all her flood in vain, but never thrilled my lips till now with drop so ravishing! And you brought it to me! Helen left me to die ... cruel ... cruel ... cruel.... (Sits on couch, taking his head in his hands. Looks up) Florimel!

Mrs. Del. My Calidore!

Poe. You are a very beautiful devil.

Mrs. Del. (Pouring wine) Thanks. I'm glad you like my style. (Sips wine) It _is_ good, isn't it?

Poe. 'Tis an enchantment to pilot grief to new and festal worlds! Another cup! (Drinks) O, 'tis a drink to rouse the drooping soul for warrier quest till on the conquered shores of dream man strides a god!... (Pours another glass) Again? No ... no more!... (Sinks down) O, my bird of Heaven, come quickly, or I am lost!... Florimel!

Mrs. Del. My knight of Normandy!

Poe. Since we are going to hell let us be merry about it.

Mrs. Del. At last you are sensible.

Poe. Wine! wine!

Mrs. Del. (Holding glass) I mean to have my price for this.

Poe. Take my soul!

Mrs. Del. Something better--a kiss!

Poe. 'Tis yours! (Kisses her) Why not? For but a kiss did Jove forsake the skies, and jeopard his high realm!

Mrs. Del. For but a kiss did Dian leave her throne and waste her goddess dower on shepherd lips! (Sits by him) Now you are going to tell me something. Why did you fly from Normandy, and not a word, not a word to me? Come, my Calidore! Why did you fly from me?

Poe. (Momentarily sober) Because--a woman shall never become less holy than God made her through me. (Rises and walks away) Helen ... my amaranth, I may not pluck thee!... (Staggers) One cup more ... one.... (Pours wine, and holds up glass apostrophizing as Roger and Helen enter unnoticed) O, little ruby ocean that can drown all mortal sighs! Call buried hope to put life's garland on, and limping woes to trip like Nereids on a moonlit shore! For thee, frail sickness casts her pallid chrysalis and blooms a rosy angel! For thee, Death breaks his scythe and owns Life conqueror! (Drinks) Were this Antonius' cup.... Ha! Are you there, my devil? Another kiss, sweetheart! (Throws his arm about Mrs. Delormis. Helen cries out. Poe turns and faces her)

Hel. (To Poe, speaking slowly and mechanically) I came, sir, to ask you to forgive me. (Turns to Roger) It is to you, Roger, that I make my plea.

(Poe looks at her helplessly, then understands, and with a terrible face, turns and leaps through the open window. Helen, with a sob, droops, and Roger takes her in his arms)

(CURTAIN)

ACT II.

Scene: Lawn in front of Clemm cottage, near Richmond. Bony and Tat on a side porch shelling peas.

Tat. Sho' Mars Edgah come in good time! Pea-vines jes a hangin' low, an' sweet as honey!

Bony. Mars Edgah hab peas ebry day wha' he came f'om! Big city hab ebryting!

Tat. Dey can't hab ebryting when it don' grow!

Bony. Sho', dey hab it when it don' grow same lak when he do grow!

Tat. You nebah did hab no sense!

Bony. I ain't got no sense? Take dat, Tatermally Clemm! (Strikes at her. They scuffle and bring Zurie to side door)

Zu. Dem chillun' jes kill me! Why de Lawd make ol' Zurie bring dem two twins to dis heah worl' she nebah could tell! Dey haint shell 'nuf fo' a hummin' bird's stomach, an' de pot bilin' mad fo' 'm dis minute! Wha' yo' do, yo' black niggahs? Come in heah! I make yo' sit still an' do nuffin' an' yo' ol' mammy wu'kin' hussef to def! (Picks up basket and drives children into the kitchen. Calls after them beamingly) Wha' yo' reckon yo' ol' mammy cookin' in dat ubbin fo' two little no 'count niggahs?

Children. (Within, scampering with delight) Cherry cobblah! Cherry cobblah!

Zu. (Shutting the door) Don' want dat wind blowin' on my poun' cake! It'll fall sho'!

(Virginia comes out at the front door of cottage, and walks across the lawn to the shade of a bay tree where Poe lies in a hammock as if asleep. A book on the ground. She goes up softly and sits on a garden chair near him. He opens his eyes)

Vir. O, I have waked you!

Poe. No, little houri. I was not asleep. I would not give one breath of this sweet world to cold, unconscious sleep.

Vir. You are happy, cousin Edgar?

Poe. No, Virginia. This is all too delicious to be called happiness. Too calm, like the stilling of a condor's wings above sea-guarding peaks. He flies when he is happy. When more than happy, it is enough to pause in the blue and breathe wonders.

Vir. Is it wonderful here, Edgar? It has always seemed so to me, but I have been afraid to tell anyone. It seems like a great fairy house with God in it. Is it wonderful, cousin?

Poe. _You_ are wonderful.

Vir. O, no, no, no! I want to tell you too, Edgar, I have never felt that I quite belong here. It is all too good for me--so beautiful, and I am not beautiful.

Poe. (Rising) Why, my little aspiring Venus, let me tell you something. I have wandered somewhat in life--at home and over sea--and I have never looked upon a woman fairer than yourself.

Vir. (Springing up in delight) O, I am so happy! You would not flatter me! You are the soul of truth!

Poe. It is no flattery, little maid, as the world will soon teach you.

Vir. I have nothing to do with that world, Edgar. My world is the circuit of our mocking-bird's wing. O, where is he? (Calls) Freddy! Freddy! He is not near or he would come. But he never goes farther than the orchard. Freddy!... He has not sung to me this morning. You haven't heard his finest song yet. O, 'tis sweeter than--

Poe. (Picking up book) Than Spenser?

Vir. Yes--than Spenser. Though he makes music too, and we were just coming to the siren's song. Shall I read?

Poe. Do! I knew not how to love him till he warbled from your tongue.

Vir. 'Tis where the mermaid calls the knight.

(Reads)

O, thou fair son of gentle faery, That art in mighty arms most magnifyde Above all knights that ever battle tried, O, turn thy rudder hetherward awhile! Here may the storm-bett vessel safely ride; This is the port of ease from troublous toil, The world's sweet inn from pain and wearisome turmoyle!

Poe. No more--no more!

Vir. Why, cousin?

Poe. I shall have the water about my ears presently. I thought I was drowning on a mermaid's bosom. Read no more, Virginia. One nibble at a time is enough of Spenser. He ought to be made into a thousand little poems. Then we should have a multitude of gems instead of a great granite mountain that nobody can circuit without weariness.

Vir. You know so much, Edgar. Will you teach me while you are here, if I try very hard to learn?

Poe. (Plucking a flower) My little girl, what lore would you teach this bud? God makes some people so. Be happy that you are a beautiful certainty and not a struggling possibility.

Vir. But the rose has no soul, Edgar--no heart, as I have. It does not sigh to see you look so pale, and read these lines of suffering here, (touching his brow) but I--it kills me, cousin! (He hides his face) Forgive me! O, I am so unkind!

(Mrs. Clemm comes out of cottage and crosses to them. She gently takes Poe's hand from his face and kisses him)

Mrs. C. My dear boy!

Poe. (Seizing her hand and holding it) Don't--don't be so kind to me, aunt! It tells too much of what has never been mine. Curious interest--passing friendship--love born in a flash and dead in an hour--these I have had, while my heart was crying from its depths for the firmly founded love that shakes but with the globe itself.

Mrs. C. (Taking his head on her breast) My dear Edgar! You will be my son--Virginia's brother!

Poe. (Lifting his face smiling) I _will_ be happy! No more of that solitude lighted only by the eyes of ghouls! Here I have come into the light. I have found the sun. I see what my work should be--what Art is. She is beauty and joy. Her light should fall on life like morning on the hills. The clouds of passion and agony should never darken her face. O, I can paint her now ready for the embrace of the soul!

Mrs. C. I can not see things with your rapturous eyes, Edgar, but I know that your work will be noble, and I love you.

Poe. O, aunt, you and this little wonder-witch have enchanted me back to happiness. I promise you never again shall you see a tear on my face or a frown on my brow. (Virginia, looking toward the road, bows as to some one passing)

Poe. Blushing, cousin? Who is worth such a rosy flag? (Stands up and looks down the road) Brackett! I do believe!

Mrs. C. You know him, Edgar? He is staying with my brother-in-law, Nelson Clemm, for a short time, and has asked to call on us--on Virginia, I mean, for of course I don't count, now that my little girl is suddenly turned woman.

Poe. Don't for Heaven's sake!

Mrs. C. You don't like him, Edgar?

Poe. Like him! We were at West Point together. He refused to accept a challenge after slandering me vilely, and I was obliged to thrash him. That's all. (Turns suddenly to Virginia) And you were blushing for him!

Vir. It was not because I like him, Edgar.

Poe. (Looking into her eyes) You are a wise little piece.

Mrs. C. This is painful, Edgar. Of course he must not call.

Poe. Call! Let him but look toward the house again, and I'll give him a drubbing that will make him forget the first one! The coward! He wouldn't meet me--after--

Vir. How about the frowns, Edgar?

Poe. (Smiling) Let him go!

Mrs. C. You should not make such bitter enemies at the beginning of life, my boy.

Poe. He can not touch me. He is not of my world.

Mrs. C. We are all of one world, Edgar, and never know when we may lap fortunes with our foes. Mr. Brackett is going into literature too.

Poe. Yes. The trade and barter part of it. I shall be in the holy temple while he keeps a changer's table on the steps. (Shrugging) Brackett! Pah!... But goodbye for half an hour. I'm going to the orchard to take counsel with the birds on my new philosophy. (Starts away) Come, (turning to Virginia) my mocking bird, there won't be a quorum without you! (Virginia goes to him. Zurie puts her head out of a window and calls.)

Mum Zurie. Mars Nelson comin' up de lane!

Mrs. C. Come back, Virginia, you must see your uncle. Edgar, won't you wait and meet him?

Poe. Thank you aunt, but I don't think it would give him any pleasure. (Exit)

Vir. (Coming back reluctantly) O mama, we _will_ make him happy!

Mrs. C. We'll try, my dear. But you must get ready for the picnic. The girls will be here soon. Is Edgar going with you?

Vir. No, mother. He said he would go to a picnic only with nymphs and naiads.

Mrs. C. Here is uncle.

(Enter, from the road, Nelson Clemm)

Mr. C. How d' do, Maria! Howdy, girl! Go get your hat.

Mrs. C. What now, Nelson?

Mr. C. Nothin'. Only I'm tired o' foolin' and talkin' about that girl's education. I've come to take her this time.

Vir. To send me to school?

Mr. C. High time, ain't it? I couldn't make up my mind before whether 'twas to be the seminary at Bowville or Maryburg. But I had a letter this morning which settled it for Bowville. Suits me exactly--suits me _exactly_. So get your hat and come along. I drove across the ridge and left my trap at Judge Carroll's.

Mrs. C. Her clothes, Nelson! There's nothing ready--

Mr. C. You mean to say! When we've been talkin' this thing a whole year? And you a thrifty woman tell me her clothes ain't ready? Well, she'll come without 'em, that's all. You can send 'em along afterwards. I've got it all fixed up, I tell you. My brother's child shall have her chance--she shall have her chance, so long as I've got a dollar in my pocket and she walks exactly to please me--walks _exactly_ to please me. It's for you to say, Maria, whether you'll stand in the way o' your own flesh and blood or not.

Mrs. C. Of course, Nelson, I am very grateful, and do not dream of depriving Virginia of this opportunity, only--

Mr. C. That's all there is to it then. No onlys about it. Go get your hat, girl. (Virginia goes slowly into the house. At the door she meets Zurie who turns back and goes in with her)

Mrs. C. Now, Nelson?

Mr. C. It's just this. My brother's child shan't stay another hour in the same house with Edgar Poe. That's the plain tale of it, Maria.

Mrs. C. Nelson Clemm!

Mr. C. O, I've been hearin' things--I've been hearin'! He didn't cover all his tracks at West Point--or New York either!

Mrs. C. Lies! All lies! Every one of them! He is the soul of honor! Already Virginia loves him like a brother! I trust her instinct! I trust my own!

Mr. C. O, I'm not arguin', I'm just doin'. You can't turn him out, of course. Wouldn't do it myself. Nobody'll ever say Nelse Clemm was an inhospitable dog! But I can look out for Virginia, and I will. She goes with me now, or I'm done with you and yours--and you know that mortgage ain't paid off yet.

Mrs. C. Yes, she shall go. She ought to be in school and again I thank you for helping us. But you are wronging my nephew,--one of the noblest of men. You don't know him!

Mr. C. It's plain enough _you_ don't!

Mrs. C. Has Mr. Brackett--

Mr. C. Mr. Brackett is a guest in my house. Now, Maria, say what you please. (Virginia comes out of cottage carrying a small satchel) That's a good girl! We'll fix up a fine trunk and send it after her, won't we, mother?

Vir. (Putting her arms about her mother's neck) He--wasn't in the orchard, mama. Won't you say goodbye to him for me?

Mr. C. Come, come now! (Leads her away) Don't worry, Maria. I'll drive you over to Bowville every Sunday Doctor Barlow doesn't preach. (Half turning) By the by, I saw him down the lane at the widow Simson's. Reckon he'll be along here pretty soon. Seems to be on his widow's route to-day. Good morning! (Exeunt)

Mrs. C. (Looking after them) I shall go to her myself to-morrow. My little daughter! A stately woman now, but always my little daughter! (Starts into the house, pausing on steps) Poor Edgar! How he is misjudged! (Goes in)

(Zurie, Tat following, comes out of the side door and sets to work digging up a shrub)

Zu. (Muttering) Wha' Mis' Clemm gwine ter say ter all dem young ladies comin' heah fo' de picnic? An' who gwine ter eat dem pies Zurie been two days makin'? An' sech a poun' cake! It ought to be a weddin' cake, deed it ought! (Bony comes out of kitchen with a knife in his hand) Heah, niggah, gimme up dat knife an' don' be so slow-back! Dis heah bush done grow an' bloom till yo' get heah!

(Enter Poe, left, singing)

Old winter is a lie As every spring doth prove, And care is born to die If we but let in love--

Hey Mum Zurie, what are you doing?

Zu. I's diggin', honey.

Poe. That rosebay is the most graceful shrub in the yard. You kill one leaf of it, if you dare!

Zu. Miss Virginia she say how her bru'r Edgah lub dis heah tree, an' she want it under her window.

Poe. Oh! Can't I help you, Zurie? Tenderly now!

Zu. Miss Babylam' ax me to move it yistiddy but I don't git no time, an' I ain' gwine to leab it now jes cause she's gone away.

Poe. Gone away?

Zu. O Lawd, I forgot you don' know! Why, honey, Mars Nelson he come jes now an' frisk her off to school. Zip! an' Babylam' gone! An' law, ef you seen dat po' chile cryin'!

Poe. She cried, Zurie?

Zu. Deed she did, and she ax me twenty hundred times to tell her bru'r Edgah goodbye.

Poe. Virginia gone?

Zu. I done tol' yo, Mars Edgah! Sho' yo' don't think ol' Zurie know how ter tell lies, does yo', honey?

Poe. No, Zurie, I know she is gone. The birds have all stopped singing.

Zu. Law, Mars Edgah, dey jes be a chipperin'! Heah dat now?

Poe. That is not a song, Zurie. It is a wail from Stygian boughs.

Zu. O, yo' go way!

Poe. Gone! I'll not permit it! My aunt must bring her back! (Hurries into house)