I
  "We moved with pensive paces,
    I and he,
  And bent our faded faces
    Wistfully,
For something troubled him, and troubled me.
  "The lanthorn feebly lightened
    Our grey hall,
  Where ancient brands had brightened
    Hearth and wall,
And shapes long vanished whither vanish all.
  "'O why, Love, nightly, daily,'
    I had said,
  'Dost sigh, and smile so palely,
    As if shed
Were all Life's blossoms, all its dear things dead?'
  "'Since silence sets thee grieving,'
    He replied,
  'And I abhor deceiving
    One so tried,
Why, Love, I'll speak, ere time us twain divide.'
  "He held me, I remember,
    Just as when
  Our life was June—(September
    It was then);
And we walked on, until he spoke again.
  "'Susie, an Irish mummer,
    Loud-acclaimed
  Through the gay London summer,
    Was I; named
A master in my art, who would be famed.
  "'But lo, there beamed before me
    Lady Su;
  God's altar-vow she swore me
    When none knew,
And for her sake I bade the sock adieu.
  "'My Lord your father's pardon
    Thus I won:
  He let his heart unharden
    Towards his son,
And honourably condoned what we had done;
  "'But said—recall you, dearest? -
    As for Su,
  I'd see her—ay, though nearest
    Me unto -
Sooner entombed than in a stage purlieu!
  "'Just so.—And here he housed us,
    In this nook,
  Where Love like balm has drowsed us:
    Robin, rook,
Our chief familiars, next to string and book.
  "'Our days here, peace-enshrouded,
    Followed strange
  The old stage-joyance, crowded,
    Rich in range;
But never did my soul desire a change,
  "'Till now, when far uncertain
    Lips of yore
  Call, call me to the curtain,
    There once more,
But ONCE, to tread the boards I trod before.
  "'A night—the last and single
    Ere I die -
  To face the lights, to mingle
    As did I
Once in the game, and rivet every eye!'
  "'To something drear, distressing
    As the knell
  Of all hopes worth possessing!' . . .
    —What befell
Seemed linked with me, but how I could not tell.
  "Hours passed; till I implored him,
    As he knew
  How faith and frankness toward him
    Ruled me through,
To say what ill I had done, and could undo.
  "'FAITH—FRANKNESS. Ah! Heaven save such!'
    Murmured he,
  'They are wedded wealth! I gave such
    Liberally,
But you, Dear, not. For you suspected me.'
  "I was about beseeching
    In hurt haste
  More meaning, when he, reaching
    To my waist,
Led me to pace the hall as once we paced.
  "'I never meant to draw you
    To own all,'
  Declared he. 'But—I SAW you -
    By the wall,
Half-hid. And that was why I failed withal!'
  "'Where? when?' said I—'Why, nigh me,
    At the play
  That night. That you should spy me,
    Doubt my fay,
And follow, furtive, took my heart away!'
  "That I had never been there,
    But had gone
  To my locked room—unseen there,
    Curtains drawn,
Long days abiding—told I, wonder-wan.
  "'Nay, 'twas your form and vesture,
    Cloak and gown,
  Your hooded features—gesture
    Half in frown,
That faced me, pale,' he urged, 'that night in town.
  "'And when, outside, I handed
    To her chair
  (As courtesy demanded
    Of me there)
The leading lady, you peeped from the stair.
  "Straight pleaded I: 'Forsooth, Love,
    Had I gone,
  I must have been in truth, Love,
    Mad to don
Such well-known raiment.' But he still went on
  "That he was not mistaken
    Nor misled. -
  I felt like one forsaken,
    Wished me dead,
That he could think thus of the wife he had wed!
  "His going seemed to waste him
    Like a curse,
  To wreck what once had graced him;
    And, averse
To my approach, he mused, and moped, and worse.
  "Till, what no words effected
    Thought achieved:
  IT WAS MY WRAITH—projected,
    He conceived,
Thither, by my tense brain at home aggrieved.
  "Thereon his credence centred
    Till he died;
  And, no more tempted, entered
    Sanctified,
The little vault with room for one beside."
III
  Thus far the lady's story. -
    Now she, too,
  Reclines within that hoary
    Last dark mew
In Mellstock Quire with him she loved so true.
  A yellowing marble, placed there
    Tablet-wise,
  And two joined hearts enchased there
    Meet the eyes;
And reading their twin names we moralize:
  Did she, we wonder, follow
    Jealously?
  And were those protests hollow? -
    Or saw he
Some semblant dame? Or can wraiths really be?
  Were it she went, her honour,
    All may hold,
  Pressed truth at last upon her
    Till she told -
(Him only—others as these lines unfold.)
  Riddle death-sealed for ever,
    Let it rest! . . .
  One's heart could blame her never
    If one guessed
That go she did. She knew her actor best.
