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The Major And Elenor Murray At Nice
By Edgar Lee Masters
Elenor Murray and Petain, the major,
The Promenade des Anglais walked at Nice.
A cloud was over him, and in her heart
A growing grief.
He knew her at the hospital,
First saw her face among a little group
Of faces at a grave when rain was falling,
The burial of a nurse, when Elenor's face
Was bathed in tears and strained with agony.
And after that he saw her in the wards;
Heard soldiers, whom she nursed, say as she passed,
Dear little soul, sweet soul, or take her hand
In gratitude and kiss it.
But as a stream
Flows with clear water even with the filth
Of scum, debris that drifts beside the current
Of crystal water, nor corrupts it, keeps
Its poisoned, heavier medium apart,
So at the hospital where the nurses' hands
Poured sacrifice, heroic love, the filth
Of envy, anger, malice, plots, intrigue
Kept pace with pure devotion, noble work
For suffering and the cause.
The major helped
To free the rules for Elenor Murray so
She might recuperate at Nice, and said:
"Go and await me, I shall join you there.
For in my trouble I must have a friend,
A woman to assuage me, give me light,
And ever since I saw you by that grave,
And saw you cross yourself, and bow your head
And watched your services along the wards
Among the sick and dying, I have felt
The soul of you, its human tenderness,
Its prodigal power of giving, pouring forth
Itself for others. And you seem a soul
Where nothing of our human frailty
Has come to dim the flame that burns in you,
You are all light, I think."
And Elenor Murray
Looked down and said: "There is no soul like that.
This hospital, the war itself, reflects
The good and bad together of our souls.
You are a boy - oh such a boy to see
All good in me."
And Major Petain said:
"At least you have not found dishonor here
As I have found it, for a lust of flesh
A weakness and a trespass."
This was after
The hospital was noisy with the talk
Of Major Petain and his shame, the hand
Of discipline lay on him.
Elenor Murray
Looked steadily in his eyes, but only said:
"We mortals know each other but a little,
Nor guess each other's secrets." And she glanced
A moment at the tragedy that had come
To her at Paris on her furlough there,
And of its train of sorrows, even now
Her broken health and failure in the work
As consequence to that, and how it brought
The breaking of her passionate will and dream
To serve and not to fail - she glanced at this
A moment as she faced him, looked at him.
Then as she turned away: "There is one thing
That I must tell you, it is fitting now,
I love and am beloved. But if you come
To Nice and I can help you, come, if talk
And any poor advice of mine can help."
So Major Petain, Elenor Murray walked
The Promenade at Nice, arm fast in arm.
And Major Petain to relieve his heart
Told all the tragedy that had come to him:
"Duty to France was first with me where love
Was paramount with you, if I divine
Your heart, America's, at least a love
Unmixed of other feelings as may be.
What could you find here, if you seek no husband,
Even in seeing France so partially?
What in adventure, lures to bring you here,
Where peril, labor are? You either came
To expiate your soul, or as you say,
To make more worthy of this man beloved
Back in America your love for him.
Dear idealist, I give my faith to you,
And all your words. But as I said 'twas duty,
Then dreams of freedom, Europe's chains struck off,
The menace of the German crushed to earth
That fired me as a soldier, trained to go
When France should need me. So it is you saw
France go about this business calm and stern,
And patient for the prize, or if 'twere lost
Then brave to meet the future as France met
The arduous years that followed Metz, Sedan."
"But had I been American to the core,
Would I have put the sweet temptation by?
However flamed with zeal had I said no
When lips like hers were offered? Oh, you see
Whatever sun-light gilds the mountain tops
Rich grass grows in the valleys, herds will feed,
Though rising suns put glories on the heights.
And herds will run and stumble over rocks,
Break fences and encounter beasts of prey
To get the grass that's sweetest."
"To begin
I met her there in Paris. In a trice
We loved each other, wrote, made vows, she pledged
The consummation. There was danger here,
Great danger, as you know, for her and me.
And yet it never stopped us, gave us fear.
And then I schemed and got her through the lines,
Took all the chances."
"Danger was not all:
There was my knowledge of her husband's love,
His life immaculate, his daily letters.
He put by woman chances that arose
With saying, I am married, am beloved,
I love my wife, all said so earnestly
We could not joke him, though behind his back
Some said: He trusts her, but he'd better watch;
At least no sense of passing good things by.
I sat with him at mess, I saw him read
The letters that she wrote him, face of light
Devouring eyes. The others rallied him;
But I was like a man who knows a plot
To take another's life, but keeps the secret,
Eats with the victim, does not warn him, makes
Himself thereby a party to the plot.
Or like a man who knows a fellow man
Has some insidious disease beginning,
And hears him speak with unconcern of it,
And does not tell him what to do, you know,
And let him go to death. And just for her,
The rapture of a secret love I choked
All risings of an honest manhood, mercy,
Honor with self and him. Oh, well you know
The isolation, hunger of us soldiers,
I only need to hint of these. But now
I see these well endured for sake of peace
And quiet memory."
"For here we stood
Just 'round the corner in that long arcade
That runs between our building, next to yours.
And this is what I hear - the husband's voice,
Which well I knew, the officer's in command:
'Why have you brought your wife here?' asked the officer.
'Pardon, I have not done so,' said the husband.
'You're adding falsehood to the offense; you know
The rules forbid your wife to pass the lines.'
'Pardon, I have not brought her,' he exclaimed
In passionate earnestness.
"Well, there we stood.
My sweetheart, but his wife, was turned to snow,
As white and cold. I got in readiness
To kill the husband. How could we escape?
I thought the husband had been sent away;
Her coming had been timed with his departure,
Arriving afterward, and we had failed.
But as for that, before our feet could stir,
The officer said, 'Come now, I'll prove your lie,'
And in a twinkling, taking a dozen steps
They turned into the arcade, there they were,
The officer was shaking him and saying,
'You lie! You lie!'
"All happened in a moment,
The humbled, ruined fellow saw the truth,
And blew his brains out on the very spot!
And made a wonder, gossip for you girls -
And here I am."
So Major Petain finished.
Then Elenor Murray said: "Let's watch the sea."
And as they sat in silence, as he turned
To look upon her face, he saw the tears,
Hanging like dew drops on her lashes, drip
And course her cheeks. "My friend, you weep for me,"
The major said at last, "my gratitude
For tears like these." "I weep," said Elenor Murray,
"For you, but for myself. What can I say?
Nothing, my friend, your soul must find its way.
Only this word: I'll go to mass with you,
I'll sit beside you, pray with you, for you,
And do you pray for me."
And then she paused.
The long wash of the sea filled in the silence.
And then she said again, "I'll go with you,
Where we may pray, each for the other pray.
I have a sorrow, too, as deep as yours."
Extra Info:
From the "Doomsday Book".
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