THE VOICE: Aye--a woman, O craven soldier!
SIR PERTINAX: Why here is strange echo methinks and speaketh--with her voice!
THE VOICE: "O voice so soft and full of sweet allure!"
SIR PERTINAX: O voice beloved that might my dolour cure!
THE VOICE: O craven soldier! O most timid wooer! SIR PERTINAX: Craven am I, yet lover--"t is most sure.
THE VOICE: But thou "rt a man--at least meseemeth so.
SIR PERTINAX: And, being man, myself unworthy know, Yet must I love and my beloved seek And, finding her, no words of love dare speak.
For this my love beyond all words doth reach, And I"m slow-tongued and lack the trick of speech.
Nor hope have I that she should stoop to bless, A man so full of all unworthiness.
So am I dumb--
THE VOICE: And yet dost speak indeed, Such words, methinks, as any maid might heed.
"Ha, think ye so in verity, sweet voice!" cried Sir Pertinax, and springing lightly to earth, strode forward on eager feet. And lo! from behind a certain tree stepped one who, letting fall shrouding cloak and hood, stood there a maid, dark-haired and darkly bright of eye, very shapely and fair to see in her simple tire. And beholding her thus, the tender curve of scarlet lips, the flutter of slender hands, the languorous bewitchment of her eyes, Sir Pertinax halted.
My daughter GILLIAN interpolateth:
GILL:
What, again? Father, that will never do.
Don"t make him halt again, I beg of you.
Sir Pertinax has halted much too long, To make him do it here would be quite wrong!
MYSELF:
My child, I wish you would not interrupt My halting muse in manner so abrupt--
GILL:
But here "s a chance at last to let them kiss, And now you make him halt!
MYSELF: Exactly, miss!
Sir Pertinax halted and bowed his head abashed.
My daughter GILLIAN persisteth:
GILL:
Well, father, while he halts, then tell me, pray, Just what you mean by that line where you say, "The languorous bewitchment of her eyes"?
MYSELF:
My child, no child should authors catechise, Especially, poor fellow, if, like me, Father and author both at once is he.
Wise authors all such questions strictly ban, And never answer--even if they can.
If of our good knight"s wooing you would hear, Keep stilly tongue and hearken well, my dear.
Sir Pertinax halted and bowed his head, abashed by her beauty.
"Melissa!" he whispered, "O Melissa!" and so stood mute.
"O Pertinax!" she sighed. "Art dumb at sight of me? O Pertinax, and wherefore?"
"All have I forgot save only thy loveliness, Melissa!"
"Methinks such--forgetfulness becometh thee well. Say on!"
"Ah, Melissa, I--do love thee."
"Why this I knew when thou didst sit a-fishing!"
"But, indeed, then I dreamed not of loving thee or any maid."
"Because thou art but a man."
"Verily, and being man, now came I seeking thee for Love"s sweet sake yet, finding thee, know not how to speak thee. Alas, I do fear I am but sorry wooer!"
"Alas, Pertinax, I do fear thou art! Yet thou shalt learn, perchance.
How--art dumb again, canst speak me no more?"
"Nought--save only this, thou art beyond all maids fair, Melissa!"
"Why, I do think thou"lt make a wooer some day mayhap, by study diligent.
"T will take long time and yet--I would not have thee learn too soon! And hast thought of me? A little?"
"I have borne thee ever within my heart."
"And wherefore wilt love maid so lowly?"
"For that thou art thyself and thyself--Melissa. And O, I love thy voice!"
"My voice? And what more?"
"Thine eyes. Thy little, pretty feet. Thy scarlet mouth. Thy gentle, small hands. Thy hair. All of thee!"
"O," she murmured a little breathlessly, "if thou dost so love me--woo me--a little!"
"Alas!" he sighed, "I know not how."
"Hast ne"er wooed maid ere this, big soldier?"
"Never!"