Getting Married

heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs. Collins knows. Mrs. George A faint convulsion passing like a wave over her. I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I⁠—I⁠—She reels and is again convulsed. The Bishop Saving her from falling. What’s the matter? Are you ill, Mrs. Collins? He gets her back into her chair. Soames: there’s a glass of water in the study⁠—quick. Soames hurries to the study door. Mrs. George No. Soames stops. Don’t call. Don’t bring anyone. Can’t you hear anything? The Bishop Nothing unusual. He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest. Mrs. George No music? Soames No. He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested. Mrs. George Do you see nothing⁠—not a great light? The Bishop We are still walking in darkness. Mrs. George Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. He does so. Her eyes close. Soames Inspired to prophesy. There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner⁠— The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs. George’s eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. Mrs. George You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. More quietly. I’ve been myself. I’ve not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. Soames Whispering. Is she inspired? The Bishop Marvellous. Hush. Mrs. George I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed. The Bishop And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? Soames Hungrily. Give us your message. Mrs. George With intensely sad reproach. When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? Soames Do you understand this, my lord? The Bishop I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. He takes Mrs. George’s hand. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? Mrs. George It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you⁠—to touch you⁠—the Bishop quickly releases her hand. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open forever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. The Bishop You must take us as we are, Mrs. Collins. Soames No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. Mrs. George Take me as I am: I ask no more. She turns her head to the study door and cries, Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. Hotchkiss Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs. Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. Soames My lord; is this possession by the devil? The Bishop Or the ecstasy of a saint? Hotchkiss Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? The Bishop May not the three be one? Mrs. George Troubled. You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and⁠—what was it?⁠—striving to fathom it the pythoness⁠—the pythoness⁠—giving it up I don’t understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? Soames Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? The Bishop Or take you and canonize you? Hotchkiss Gaily. Or take you as a matter of course? Swiftly to the Bishop. We must get her out