Part 5

Well, well, what is it? Wherefore make me wait?

CUPID (tapping his brow, thoughtfully)

How is it those lines run—oh, now I know; You make a stately entrance—measured—slow— To stirring music, then you kneel and say Something about—to honour and obey— For better and for worse—till death do part.

MAID (angrily)

Be still, you foolish boy; that is not art.

CUPID (seriously)

She needs great skill who takes the role of wife In God’s stupendous drama human life.

MAID (suddenly becoming serious)

So I once thought! Oh, once my very soul Was filled and thrilled with dreaming of that role. Life seemed so wonderful; it held for me No purpose, no ambition, but to be Loving and loved. My highest thought of fame Was some day bearing my dear lover’s name. Alone, I ofttimes uttered it aloud, Or wrote it down, half timid, and all proud To see myself lost utterly in him: As some small star might joy in growing dim When sinking in the sun; or as the dew, Forgetting the brief little life it knew In space, might on the ocean’s bosom fall And ask for nothing—only to give all.

CUPID (aside)

Now, that’s the talk—it’s music to my ear After that stuff on ‘art’ and a ‘career.’ I hope she’ll keep it up.

MAIDEN (continuing her reverie)

Again my dream Shaped into changing pictures. I would seem To see myself in beautiful array Move down the aisle upon my wedding day; And then I saw the modest living-room With lighted lamp, and fragrant plants in bloom, And books and sewing scattered all about, And just we two alone.

CUPID (in glee aside)

There’s not a doubt I’ll land her yet!

MAIDEN

My dream kaleidoscope Changed still again, and framed love’s dearest hope— The trinity of home; and life was good And all its deepest meaning understood.

Another scene! a matron in her prime, I saw myself glide peacefully with time Into the quiet middle years, content With simple joys the dear home circle lent. My sons and daughters made my diadem; I saw my happy youth renewed in them. The pain of growing old lost all its sting, For Love stood near—in Winter, as in Spring.

’Twas but a dream! I woke all suddenly. The world had changed! And now life means to me My art—the stage—excitement and the crowd— The glare of many foot-lights—and the loud Applause of men, as I cry in rage, ‘Give me the dagger!’ or creep down the stage In that sleep-walking scene. Oh, art like mine Will send the chills down every listener’s spine! And when I choose, salt tears shall freely flow As in the moonlight I cry, ‘Romeo! Romeo! Oh, wherefore art thou, Romeo?’ Ay, ’tis done My dream of home life.

CUPID

It is but begun.

MAIDEN

The heart but once can dream a dream so fair, And so henceforth love thoughts I do forswear; Since faith in love has crumbled to the dust, In fame alone, I put my hope and trust.

CUPID

Here’s one who will explain yourself to you And make that old sweet dream of love come true. Fix up your foolish quarrel; time is brief— So waste no more of it in doubt or grief.

CUPID (in doorway)

Warm lip to lip, and heart to beating heart, The cast is made—My Lady has her part.

CURTAIN