Page:Aurora Leigh a Poem.djvu/295

Rh ’Tis true, by this time, you may near me so That you’re my cousin’s wife. You’ve gambled As Lucifer, and won the morning-star In that case,—and the noble house of Leigh Must henceforth with its good roof shelter you: I cannot speak and burn you up between Those rafters, I who am born a Leigh,—nor speak And pierce your breast through Romney’s, I who live His friend and cousin!—so, you are safe. You two Must grow together like the tares and wheat Till God’s great fire.—But make the best of time.

‘And hide this letter! let it speak no more Than I shall, how you tricked poor Marian Erle, And set her own love digging her own grave Within her green hope’s pretty garden-ground; Ay, sent her forth with some of your sort To a wicked house in France,—from which she fled With curses in her eyes and ears and throat, Her whole soul choked with curses,—mad, in short, And madly scouring up and down for weeks The foreign hedgeless country, lone and lost,— So innocent, male-fiends might slink within Remote hell-corners, seeing her so defiled!

‘But you,—you are a woman and more bold. To do you justice, you’d not shrink to face. . We’ll say, the unfledged life in the other room, Which, treading down God’s corn, you trod in sight Of all the dogs, in reach of all the guns,—