Scene
The Corridor Outside the Guest Chamber
HUGO pacing up and down. ORION leaning against the wall.
Hugo:My day of grace with theirs is past.I might have saved them; ’tis too late—Too late for both. The die is cast,And I resign me to my fate.God’s vengeance I await.
Orion:The boundary ‘twixt right and wrongIs not so easy to discern;And man is weak, and fate is strong,And destiny man’s hopes will spurn,Man’s schemes will overturn.
Hugo:Thou liest, thou fiend! Not unawaresThe sinner swallows Satan’s bait,Nor pits conceal’d nor hidden snaresSeeks blindly; wherefore dost thou prateOf destiny and fate?
Orion:Who first named fate? But never mind,Let that pass by—to Adam’s fallAnd Adam’s curse look back, and findIniquity the lot of all,And sin original.
Hugo:But I have sinn’d, repented, sinn’d,Till seven times that sin may beBy seventy multiplied; the windIs constant when compared with me,And stable is the sea!
My hopes are sacrificed, for what?For days of folly, less or more,For years to see those dead hopes rot,Like dead weeds scatter’d on the shore,Beyond the surfs that roar!
Orion:The wiles of Eve are swift to smite;Aye, swift to smite and not to spare—Red lips and round limbs sweet and white,Dark eyes and sunny, silken hair,Thy betters may ensnare.
Hugo:Not so; the strife ‘twixt hell and heavenI felt last night, and well I knewThe crisis; but my aid was givenTo hell. Thou’st known the crisis too,For once thou’st spoken true.
Having foretold it, there remainsFor grace no time, for hope no room;Even now I seem to feel the painsOf hell, that wait beyond the gloomOf my dishonour’d tomb.
Thou who hast lived and died to save,Us sinners, Christ of Galilee!Thy great love pardon’d and forgaveThe dying thief upon the tree,Thou canst not pardon me!
Dear Lord! hear Thou my latest prayer,For prayer must die since hope is dead;Thy Father’s vengeance let me bear,Nor let my guilt be visitedUpon a guiltless head!
Ah! God is just! Full sure I amHe never did predestinateOur souls to hell. Ourselves we damn—[To Orion, with sudden passion]Serpent! I know thee now, too late;Curse thee! Work out thy hate!
Orion:I hate thee not; thy grievous plightWould move my pity, but I bearA curse to which thy curse seems light!Thy wrong is better than my right,My day is darker than thy night;Beside the whitest hope I shareHow white is thy despair!