Away then, since you must! Good luck, good rhymes! Hallowes goes out. Enter Magdalen without seeing Smith. [Aside.] These plaited coils of hair, the golden lid Of the rich casket where her live thoughts lie: Her cheek is tinged with sunset? Has she eyes? Her body sways: the crimson-blazoned west Like organ-music surges through her blood. My seeming aimless visit to the North-- The time--the circumstance!--I yield myself! This is the woman whom my soul will love. She moves this way, backward, to sit. I'll speak. Lady. [Magdalen wheels round. Her eyes are living sapphires! Magdalen. What! Smith. I love you. Magdalen. Sir! Smith. I love you, lady. Magdalen [about to go]. Sir! Smith. Lady, stay. My body and my soul assembled here, At war till now, are wedded by your glance: You make that man which chaos was before: And this is love. I dreaded love: I knew It should with such a pang lay hold of me. I am not mad although I tremble thus: It is the inspiration of my love. Fly not, repulse me not, and do not fear: I would tear up my body with my hands, And hide you in my heart did evil threat: I am as tame to you as wild things are To those that cherish them. Be confident, For I shall guard my dreams from harming you As faithfully as time his vigil keeps. Magdalen. I do not fear. Smith. Speak louder, speak again. Like rose-leaves that enrich the greedy earth The tremulous whispering bedews my heart. Speak, speak! Magdalen. Who are you, sir? Smith. A mellow voice, Falling like thistledown, melting like snow, Golden and searching as a sunny wine. It bore a question: Who am I? A man. Magdalen [aside]. I think so too.--What do you want with me? Smith. Our language is too worn, too much abused, Jaded and over-spurred, wind-broken, lame,-- The hackneyed roadster every bagman mounts. I cannot tell you what I want with you, Unless you understand the depth of this: I want for you heroic happiness. Magdalen. How might I win this happiness? Smith. Be mine: I am the enemy of all the world: Dare it with me: be mine. Magdalen. I know you not. I am engaged to one I do not love; My father swears that I must marry him: It is a common misery, so stale That I contemned it: and I know you not: But I have courage. Let me think a while. Smith. Think my thought; be impatient as I am; Obey your nature, not authority: Because the world, enchanted by the sun, The moon, the stars, with charms of time and space, Of seasons, tides, of darkness and of light, Weaves new enchantment everlastingly, Whirled in a double spell of day and year, A self-deluded sorcerer, winding round, Close to its smothered heart, coil after coil Of magic zones, invisible as air-- Some, Cytherean belts; some, chains; and some,