The Marble Faun Volume 2 - Page 69/157

"Speak!" said Miriam. "We confide in you." "Speak!" said Donatello. "You

are true and upright."

"I well know," rejoined Kenyon, "that I shall not succeed in uttering

the few, deep words which, in this matter, as in all others, include the

absolute truth. But here, Miriam, is one whom a terrible misfortune has

begun to educate; it has taken him, and through your agency, out of a

wild and happy state, which, within circumscribed limits, gave him joys

that he cannot elsewhere find on earth. On his behalf, you have incurred

a responsibility which you cannot fling aside. And here, Donatello, is

one whom Providence marks out as intimately connected with your destiny.

The mysterious process, by which our earthly life instructs us for

another state of being, was begun for you by her. She has rich gifts of

heart and mind, a suggestive power, a magnetic influence, a sympathetic

knowledge, which, wisely and religiously exercised, are what your

condition needs. She possesses what you require, and, with utter self

devotion, will use it for your good. The bond betwixt you, therefore,

is a true one, and never--except by Heaven's own act--should be rent

asunder."

"Ah; he has spoken the truth!" cried Donatello, grasping Miriam's hand.

"The very truth, dear friend," cried Miriam.

"But take heed," resumed the sculptor, anxious not to violate the

integrity of his own conscience, "take heed; for you love one another,

and yet your bond is twined with such black threads that you must never

look upon it as identical with the ties that unite other loving souls.

It is for mutual support; it is for one another's final good; it is for

effort, for sacrifice, but not for earthly happiness. If such be your

motive, believe me, friends, it were better to relinquish each other's

hands at this sad moment. There would be no holy sanction on your wedded

life."

"None," said Donatello, shuddering. "We know it well."

"None," repeated Miriam, also shuddering. "United--miserably entangled

with me, rather--by a bond of guilt, our union might be for eternity,

indeed, and most intimate;--but, through all that endless duration, I

should be conscious of his horror."

"Not for earthly bliss, therefore," said Kenyon, "but for mutual

elevation, and encouragement towards a severe and painful life, you take

each other's hands. And if, out of toil, sacrifice, prayer, penitence,

and earnest effort towards right things, there comes at length a sombre

and thoughtful, happiness, taste it, and thank Heaven! So that you live

not for it,--so that it be a wayside flower, springing along a path that

leads to higher ends,--it will be Heaven's gracious gift, and a token

that it recognizes your union here below."

"Have you no more to say?" asked Miriam earnestly. "There is matter of

sorrow and lofty consolation strangely mingled in your words."