If I Had a Father

much for your life. Anybody might have my life for the asking. I dare say it’s just as good to be dead.⁠—Ah! there is a toad⁠—a toad with a tail! No; it’s a toad with a slowworm after him. Take them away, William!⁠—Thank you.⁠—I used to think life pleasant, but now⁠—somehow there’s nothing in it. She told me the truth about it⁠—Constance did. Don’t let those women come back. What if I should love them, William!⁠—love and hate them both at once! William! William! A knock at the door. See who that is. Mind you don’t let them in. Col. Gervaise Martha is there, sir. Gervaise She’s but an old woman; she can’t keep them out. They would walk over her. All the goddesses have such long legs! You go and look. You’ll easily know them: if they’ve got no irises to their eyes, don’t let them in, for the love of God, William! Real women have irises to their eyes: those have none⁠—those frightful snowy beauties.⁠—And yet snow is very nice! And I’m so hot! There they come again! Exit Col. Gervaise. Enter Mrs. Clifford. Gervaise Aunt! aunt! help me! There they come! Mrs. Clifford What is it, my Arthur? They shan’t hurt you. I am here. I will take care of you. Gervaise Yes, yes, you will! I am not a bit afraid of them now. Do you know them, aunt? I’ll tell you a secret: they are Juno and Diana and Venus.⁠—They hate sculptors. But I never wronged them. Three white women⁠—only, between their fingers and behind their knees they are purple⁠—and inside their lips, when they smile⁠—and in the hollows of their eyes⁠—ugh! They want me to love them; and they say you are all⁠—all of you women⁠—no better than they are. I know that is a lie; for they have no eyelids and no irises to their eyes. Mrs. Clifford Dear boy, they shan’t come near you. Shall I sing to you, and drive them away? Gervaise No, don’t. I can’t bear birds in my brain. Mrs. Clifford How long have you had this headache? Laying her hand on his forehead. Gervaise Only a year or two⁠—since the white woman came⁠—that woman pointing to the Psyche. She’s been buried for ages, and won’t grow brown. Mrs. Clifford There’s no woman there, Arthur. Gervaise Of course not. It was an old story that bothered me. Oh, my head! my head!⁠—There’s my father standing behind the door and won’t come in!⁠—He could help me now, if he would. William! show my father in. But he isn’t in the story⁠—so he can’t. Mrs. Clifford Do try to keep yourself quiet, Arthur. The doctor will be here in a few minutes. Gervaise He shan’t come here! He would put the white woman out. She does smell earthy, but I won’t part with her. A knock. What a devil of a noise! Why don’t they use the knocker? What’s the use of taking a sledgehammer? Mrs. Clifford It’s that stupid James! Enter Constance. Mrs. Clifford goes to meet her. Mrs. Clifford Constance, you go and hurry the doctor. I will stay with Arthur. Constance Is he very ill, aunt? Mrs. Clifford I’m afraid he is. Gervaise Sitting up. Constance! Constance! Constance Here I am! Running to him. Gervaise Oh, my head! I wish I could find somewhere to lay it!⁠—Sit by me, Constance, and let me lay my head on your shoulder⁠—for one minute⁠—only one minute. It aches so! She sits down by him. His head sinks on her shoulder. Mrs. Clifford looks annoyed, and exit. Constance Thank you, thank you, dear Arthur! Sobbing. You used to like me! I could not believe you hated me now. You have forgiven me? Dear head! He closes his eyes. Slow plaintive music. Gervaise Half waking. I can’t read. When I get to the bottom of the page, I wonder what it was all about. I shall never get to Garibaldi! and if I don’t, I shall never get farther. If I could but keep that one line away! It drives me mad, mad. “He took her by the lily-white hand.”⁠—I could strangle myself for thinking of such things, but they will come!⁠—I won’t go mad. I should never get to Garibaldi, and never be rid of this red-hot ploughshare ploughing up my heart. I will not go mad! I will die like a man. Constance Arthur! Arthur! Gervaise God in heaven! she is there! And the others are behind her!⁠—Psyche! Psyche! Don’t speak to those women! Come alone, and I will tear my heart out and give it you.⁠—It is Psyche herself now, and the rest are gone! Psyche⁠—listen. Constance It’s only me, Arthur! your own little Constance! If aunt would but let me stay and nurse you! But I don’t know what’s come to her: she’s not like herself at all. Gervaise Who’s that behind you? Constance Behind me? Looking round. There’s nobody behind me. Gervaise I thought there was somebody behind you. William!⁠—What can have become of William? Constance I dare say aunt has sent him somewhere. Gervaise Then he’s gone! he’s gone! Constance You’re not afraid of being left alone with me, Arthur? Gervaise Oh no! of course not?⁠—What can have become of William? Don’t you know they sent him⁠—not those women, but the dead people⁠—to look after me? He’s a good fellow. He said he would die for me. Ha! ha! ha! Not much in that⁠—is there? Constance Don’t laugh so, dear Arthur. Gervaise Well, I won’t. I have something to tell you, Constance. I will try to keep my senses till I’ve told you. Constance Do tell me. I hope I haven’t done anything more to vex you. Indeed I am sorry. I won’t speak to that man again, if you like. I would rather not⁠—if you wish it. Gervaise What right have I to dictate to you, my child? Constance Every right. I am yours. I belong to you. Nobody owned me when you took me. Gervaise Don’t talk like that; you will drive me mad. Constance Arthur! Arthur! Gervaise Listen to me, Constance. I am going to Garibaldi. He