lucile-第46章
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n to speak of the lone moody lord； Shut up in his lone moody halls： every word Held the weight of a tear： she recorded the good He had patiently wrought through a whole neighborhood； And the blessing that lived on the lips of the poor； By the peasant's hearthstone； or the cottager's door。 There she paused： and her accents seem'd dipp'd in the hue Of his own sombre heart； as the picture she drew Of the poor； proud； sad spirit； rejecting love's wages； Yet working love's work； reading backwards life's pages For penance； and stubbornly； many a time； Both missing the moral； and marring the rhyme。 Then she spoke of the soldier！ 。 。 。 the man's work and fame； The pride of a nation； a world's just acclaim！ Life's inward approval！
XXVIII。
Her voice reach'd his heart； And sank lower。 She spoke of herself： how； apart And unseen；far away；she had watch'd； year by year； With how many a blessing； how many a tear； And how many a prayer； every stage in the strife： Guess'd the thought in the deed： traced the love in the life： Bless'd the man in the man's work！ 〃THY work 。 。 。 oh； not mine！ Thine； Lucile！〃 。 。 。 he exclaim'd 。 。 。 〃all the worth of it thine； If worth there be in it！〃 Her answer convey'd His reward； and her own： joy that cannot be said Alone by the voice 。 。 。 eyesfacespoke silently： All the woman； one grateful emotion！ And she A poor Sister of Charity！ hers a life spent In one silent effort for others！ 。 。 。 She bent Her divine face above him； and fill'd up his heart With the look that glow'd from it。 Then slow； with soft art； Fix'd her aim； and moved to it。
XXIX。
He； the soldier humane； He； the hero； whose heart hid in glory the pain Of a youth disappointed； whose life had made known The value of man's life！ 。 。 。 that youth overthrown And retrieved； had it left him no pity for youth In another？ his own life of strenuous truth Accomplish'd in act； had it taught him no care For the life of another？ 。 。 。 oh no！ everywhere In the camp which she moved through； she came face to face With some noble token； some generous trace Of his active humanity 。 。 。 〃Well；〃 he replied； 〃If it be so？〃 〃I come from the solemn bedside Of a man that is dying；〃 she said。 〃While we speak； A life is in jeopardy。〃 〃Quick then！ you seek Aid or medicine； or what？〃 〃'Tis not needed；〃 she said。 〃Medicine？ yes； for the mind！ 'Tis a heart that needs aid！ You； Eugene de Luvois； you （and you only） can Save the life of this man。 Will you save it？〃 〃What man？ How？ 。 。 。 where？ 。 。 。 can you ask？〃 She went rapidly on To her object in brief vivid words 。 。 。 The young son Of Matilda and Alfredthe boy lying there Half a mile from that tent doorthe father's despair； The mother's deep anguishthe pride of the boy In the fatherthe father's one hope and one joy In the son：…the son nowwounded； dying！ She told Of the father's stern struggle with life： the boy's bold； Pure； and beautiful nature： the fair life before him If that life were but spared 。 。 。 yet a word might restore him！ The boy's broken love for the niece of Eugene！ Its pathos： the girl's love for him； how； half slain In his tent； she had found him： won from him the tale； Sought to nurse back his life； found her efforts still fail Beaten back by a love that was stronger than life； Of how bravely till then he had stood in that strife Wherein England and France in their best blood； at last； Had bathed from remembrance the wounds of the past。 And shall nations be nobler than men？ Are not great Men the models of nations？ For what is a state But the many's confused imitation of one？ Shall he； the fair hero of France； on the son Of his ally seek vengeance； destroying perchance An innocent life；here； when England and France Have forgiven the sins of their fathers of yore； And baptized a new hope in their sons' recent gore？ She went on to tell how the boy had clung still To life； for the sake of life's uses； until From his weak hands the strong effort dropp'd； stricken down By the news that the heart of Constance； like his own； Was breaking beneath 。 。 。 But there 〃Hold！〃 he exclaim'd； Interrupting； 〃Forbear！〃 。 。 。 his whole face was inflamed With the heart's swarthy thunder which yet； while she spoke； Had been gathering silentat last the storm broke In grief or in wrath 。 。 。 〃'Tis to him； then；〃 he cried； 。 。 。 Checking suddenly short the tumultuous stride； 〃That I owe these late greetingsfor him you are here For his sake you seek mefor him； it is clear； You have deign'd at the last to bethink you again Of this long…forgotten existence！〃 〃Eugene！〃 〃Ha！ fool that I was！〃 。 。 。 he went on； 。 。 。 〃and just now； While you spoke yet； my heart was beginning to grow Almost boyish again； almost sure of ONE friend！ Yet this was the meaning of allthis the end！ Be it so！ There's a sort of slow justice （admit！） In thisthat the word that man's finger hath writ In fire on my heart； I return him at last。 Let him learn that wordNever！〃 〃Ah； still to the past Must the present be vassal？〃 she said。 〃In the hour We last parted I urged you to put forth the power Which I felt to be yours； in the conquest of life。 Yours； the promise to strive： mineto watch o'er the strife。 I foresaw you would conquer； you HAVE conquer'd much； Much； indeed； that is noble！ I hail it as such； And am here to record and applaud it。 I saw Not the less in your nature； Eugene de Luvois； One perilone point where I feared you would fail To subdue that worst foe which a man can assail； Himself： and I promised that； if I should see My champion once falter； or bend the brave knee； That moment would bring me again to his side。 That moment is come！ for that peril was pride； And you falter。 I plead for yourself； and another； For that gentle child without father or mother； To whom you are both。 I plead； soldier of France； For your own nobler natureand plead for Constance！〃 At the sound of that name he averted his head。 〃Constance！ 。 。 。 Ay； she enter'd MY lone life〃 （he said） 〃When its sun was long set； and hung over its night Her own starry childhood。 I have but that light； In the midst of much darkness！ Who names me but she With titles of love？ And what rests there for me In the silence of age save the voice of that child？ The child of my own better life； undefiled！ My creature； carved out of my heart of hearts！〃 〃Say；〃 Said the Soeur Seraphine〃are you able to lay Your hand as a knight on your heart as a man And swear that； whatever may happen； you can Feel assured for the life you thus cherish？〃 〃How so？〃 He look'd up。 〃if the boy should die thus？〃 〃Yes； I know What your look would imply 。 。 。 this sleek stranger forsooth！ Because on his cheek was the red rose of youth The heart of my niece must break for it！〃 She cried； 〃Nay； but hear me yet further！〃 With slow heavy stride； Unheeding her words； he was pacing the tent； He was muttering low to himself as he went。 Ay； these young things lie safe in our heart just so long As their wings are in growing； and when these are strong They break it； and farewell！ the bird flies！〃 。 。 。 The nun Laid her hand on the soldier； and murmur'd； 〃The sun Is descending； life fleets while we talk thus！ oh； yet Let this day upon one final victory set； And complete a life's conquest！〃 He said； 〃Understand！ If Constance wed the son of this man； by whose hand My heart hath been robb'd； she is lost to my life！ Can her home be my home？ Can I claim in the wife Of that man's son the
