ii6 LITERATURE AND DRAMA 



gracious manners were a mere aping of real grace, as their fine 

 clothes mocked real beauty ; but in the forest one spring day I 

 found Griselda, a woman to my liking. Was my ideal base ? 



Tanc. No, my lord. 



Marq. My friends were of a different opinion then. Now 

 you are wiser. I set Griselda on a throne. You will hardly 

 call that act base. 



Tanc. She was unlike the women you knew, and your 

 appetite was tickled by the novelty. 



Marq. Tickled ! Appetite ! Commend me to the purity of 

 this precisian. I loved her, man, as I think you will never 

 love. Your nature cannot even apprehend my passion. Can 

 a fair body and sweet soul only tickle men like you ? Is appetite 

 the name you give to what men feel for a Griselda ? I call that 

 feeling love ; and I glory in it. You have not found the base 

 spot yet. 



Tanc. Your feeling was not love. A man's love is an 

 honour to her he loves an honour to all women ; but your 

 words would make good women blush. 



Marq. Would they ? Let me hear, then, what you mean by 

 love? 



Tanc. Love is man's worship of a woman's excellence. 

 That worship cleanses him from all base thoughts. How should 

 a lover not be pure when his whole desire is set on excellence ? 

 That desire wakes his strength, and at a touch from Hope his 

 courage rises till he will outdare demigods. When his prize is 

 won, her soul and his twine into a tree of life, stretching from 

 earth to heaven, from time into eternity. Love is a miracle, and 

 I have faith that God will work this miracle for me. 



Marq. Well said; you have faith, but I have experienced 

 the miracle. We expect more than miracles. We long to 

 burst from the solitude where we are one only self; and for an 

 hour Nature tricks us with a dream in which we reach heaven's 

 shore, and walk there with our mate, hand in hand, soul in 

 soul ; but we wake to find we are still battling in life's sea 

 alone. 



Tanc. You think love cannot last. 



Marq. Love lasts while we hope ; and when the woman is 

 Griselda, hope lasts long. You spoke of souls; we have 



