Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WOUND, by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE WOUND, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: You, mother
Last Line: Hetty. He's coming back.


Persons:

HETTY DROVER, Phillip Drover's wife.
SUSAN WELCH, her mother.
JOHN RIDDLE, a ship's riveter.

Scene: A room in tenements. HETTY DROVER stands near the
window, gazing out with unseeing eyes. She has a
wound on her brow, and another on her hand; but seems
oblivious of them. A footstep on the stairs arouses
her; and she hastily pulls her hair over her brow,
hides her hand beneath her apron;

HETTY. You, mother!
SUSAN. I've just come...
Why, daughter, what's amiss?
You look so pale...
And, oh! your brow is bleeding --
A dreadful wound...
Nay! do not touch it, woman.
Your hand bleeds, too!
HETTY. It's nothing.
SUSAN. Nothing!
A wound like that -- you call it nothing!
But, I must bind it up, instead of talking.
Words won't heal wounds,
Though often they're the cause of them.

[She takes some old linen from a drawer; fills a basin
with water, and washes, and binds the wound while she
is talking.]

Ah, what a gash! your poor, poor brow!
How you could come by such a wound,
I cannot think...
HETTY. I fell.
SUSAN. You fell? How did you come to fall?
HETTY. I hardly know.
SUSAN. You hardly know?
HETTY. I think I must have slipt; and struck the fender;
And clutched the bars, in falling:
My hand is burnt,
Although I did not feel it then.
SUSAN. You think you slipt! And then you call it nothing --
A wound like that, clean to the bone!
But, maybe, you are dazed a bit;
I shouldn't wonder if...
When did it happen, daughter?
HETTY. Long ago...
SUSAN. It cannot be so long; the wound still bleeds.
HETTY. Long ... long ago...
I don't know what I'm saying!
An hour ago, perhaps.
SUSAN. An hour ago? Then Phillip had not gone?
HETTY. Nay ... he'd not gone...
SUSAN. How comes it that he left you, lass,
In such a state as this?
HETTY. Oh, but I'm dazed!
And don't know what I'm saying.
He'd left, long, long before.
SUSAN. What set him off so early?
He hasn't far to go.
The Yard would scarce be open.
HETTY. I don't know why he went.
Perhaps, he thought he'd take a turn...
SUSAN. On such a morning, daughter!
HETTY. Why not? A drop or two of rain
Is neither here nor there with menfolk.
'Twould take a pretty splash, I fancy,
To keep my man indoors.
But, I know nothing where he went.
I only know he'd gone ... long, long before...
Why, woman, can you think he'd go --
He'd go, and leave me lying,
Half-senseless, on the hearth;
And never turn ... though I ... though I...
But he had gone, long, long before I tumbled.
He kissed me ... ere he went;
He always kisses...
Ay, and his babe,
He kissed the babe and took it in his arms;
For he's the best of fathers;
He loves his babe ... he's never harsh with it.
I thought of that, while I lay, listening
For his return...
SUSAN. For his return? You thought he'd come again?
HETTY. I don't know what I'm saying!
How could he come, when he's been long at work?
And knowing nothing...
SUSAN. Still...
HETTY. You don't believe me, mother?
SUSAN. I scarce know what to think.
HETTY. When did I ever lie to you,
That you should doubt...
SUSAN. Nay; you've been always truthful;
But Phillip...
HETTY. Can you think he'd go,
And slam the door behind him,
And leave me, lying helpless...
But you...
Why do you look at me like that;
What can I say...
SUSAN. Say nothing, daughter.
HETTY. You don't believe me, mother?
SUSAN. I know that Phillip's hot, at times;
And you would screen him.
HETTY. Nay! there's naught to screen.
'Twas I that ... Nay!
And, if he's hot, at times,
You know he's much to try him;
The racket that he works in, all day long,
Would wear the best of tempers.
Why, mother, who should know as well as you
How soon a riveter is done?
The hammers break a man, before his time;
And father was a shattered man at forty;
And Phillip's thirty-five;
And if he's failed a bit...
And, sometimes, overhasty,
Well, I am hasty, too;
You know my temper; no one knows it better.
SUSAN. But, such a wound! And then to leave...
HETTY. You do not dare to look me in the eyes,
And say you think he struck...
SUSAN. There's some one at the door; I'll open it.

[She goes to the door, and throws it open. JOHN RIDDLE
steps in, but hesitates on the threshold without speaking.]

SUSAN. Why, John, you here?
Are you not working, then?
JOHN. Ay, ... I am working, Susan.
I've only left the Yard ... I've come...
HETTY. Oh, tell me what has happened!
Why don't you speak!
Will you stand there, all day, and never speak...
JOHN. I've that to say which is not spoken easily,
Nor easy hearing for a wife.
HETTY. Speak out! Speak out!
You know that I'm no coward.
Speak! Where is Phillip? Speak!
JOHN. They're bringing him along.
SUSAN. Ah, God!
HETTY. They're bringing him ... And I ... I lay, and listened...
SUSAN. How did it happen?
JOHN. How? I scarcely know,
Though I was face to face with him;
For he and I were hammer-mates.
We sat astride the beam;
And I was chaffing him;
But, he was dazed, and silent;
And, when the red-hot rivet was thrust up,
He never struck at it;
He must have lost his nerve;
And so, I took his turn;
And still he did not strike,
But, looked at it, bewildered;
And, all at once, cried out:
"It bleeds! It bleeds!"
And then, his fingers slackened on the hammer,
Which clattered to the bottom of the ship:
And then, he swayed,
And tumbled after it...
I tried to clutch...
SUSAN. And nothing broke his fall?
JOHN. We found him in a heap.
SUSAN. Dead?
JOHN. At the point of death:
He scarcely breathed a moment;
But, as I bent down over him,
I heard him whisper...
HETTY. Spare me what he said!
I dare not hear it...
JOHN. I'd not hurt...
HETTY. Nay! Nay! speak out.
I am no coward ... I...
Tell all, tell all.
JOHN. There is not much to tell.
He whispered: "Lass, forgive me."
Then, he died.
HETTY. Forgive you, lad!
There's nothing to forgive.
'Twas I who angered you; my foolish tongue...
It's I who need...
But, I ... I'm dazed;
And don't know what I'm saying...
Nay! Nay! you did not hear aright!
He needed no forgiveness.
Why should he beg forgiveness,
Of me, his wife ... and he, the best of husbands...
And I ... I lay, and listened for his footstep...
If he'd but turned!
There's nothing to forgive...
'Twas I ... and now,
Where shall I seek forgiveness!
SUSAN. I hear steps coming up the court.
JOHN [starting forward, and catching HETTY, as she
swoons]. Nay, steady, lass!
HETTY. He's coming back.





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