few and sorrowful, my Hester's hours; and this poor contrivance numbered
them. The ring--with that I married her. This chain, it's of Guinea
gold; I brought it home for her, the year before we married, and she
wore it to her wedding. It was a vanity: they are all vanities; but they
are the treasure of my soul. Below here, see, her wedding dress. Ay, the
watch has stopped: dead, dead. And I know that my Hester died of me; and
day and night, asleep and awake, my soul abides in her remembrance.

ARETHUSA. And you come in your sleep to look at them. O, poor father! I
understand--I understand you now.

GAUNT. In my sleep? Ay? do I so? My Hester!

ARETHUSA. And why, why did you not tell me? I thought--I was like the
rest!--I feared you were a miser. O, you should have told me; I should
have been so proud--so proud and happy. I knew you loved her; but not
this, not this.

GAUNT. Why should I have spoken? It was all between my Hester and me.

ARETHUSA. Father, may I speak? May I tell you what my heart tells me?
You do not understand about my mother. You loved her--O, as few men can
love. And she loved you: think how she loved you! In this world, you
know--you have told me--there is nothing perfect. All we men and women
have our sins; and they are a pain to those that love us, and the deeper
the love, the crueller the pain. That is life; and it is life we ask,
not heaven; and what matter for the pain, if only the love holds on? Her
love held: then she was happy. Her love was immortal; and when she
died, her one grief was to be parted from you, her one hope to welcome
you again.

GAUNT. And you, Arethusa: I was to bring her little maid.

ARETHUSA. God bless her, yes, and me! But, father, can you not see that
she was blessed among women?

GAUNT. Child, child, you speak in ignorance; you touch upon griefs you
cannot fathom.

ARETHUSA. No, dearest, no. She loved you, loved you and died of it. Why
else do women live? What would I ask but just to love my Kit, and die
for him, and look down from heaven, and see him keep my memory holy and
live the nobler for my sake?

GAUNT. Ay, do you so love him?

ARETHUSA. Even as my mother loved my father.

GAUNT. Ay? Then we will see. What right have I----You are your mother's
child: better, tenderer, wiser than I. Let us seek guidance in prayer.
Good-night, my little maid.

ARETHUSA. O father, I know you at last.

SCENE II

_GAUNT and ARETHUSA go out L., carrying the ca