Page:Plays in Prose and Verse (1922).djvu/127

Rh And share our frailty. O my chicks, my chicks! That I have nourished underneath my wings And fed upon my soul.

[He rises and walks down steps. I need no help. He needs no help that joy has lifted up Like some miraculous beast out of Ezekiel. The man that dies has the chief part in the story, And I will mock and mock that image yonder, That evil picture in the sky—no, no! I have all my strength again, I will outface it. O look upon the moon that’s standing there In the blue daylight—take note of the complexion Because it is the white of leprosy And the contagion that afflicts mankind Falls from the moon. When I and these are dead We should be carried to some windy hill To lie there with uncovered face awhile That mankind and that leper there may know Dead faces laugh.

[He falls and then half rises.

King! King! Dead faces laugh.

[He dies.

. King, he is dead; some strange triumphant thought So filled his heart with joy that it has burst, Being grown too mighty for our frailty,