The Mortal Gods and Other Plays Part 66

_Ard._ To starve ... is that so terrible? 'Tis but One way of dying.

_Vig._ Dying?

_Char._ Say no more.

The morrow's dawn shall light my way to Oswald.

_Bion._ You'll go to him? Then death!

_Vig._ [_To Ardia_] See what you do?

_Ard._ Forgive me. [_Runs to her father and clings to him_]

Now! Bind me to Banissat.

_Char._ Nay, thou art free.

_Bion._ [_To Ardia_] Our lives shall thank you.

_Vig._ Thanks?

You speak her part.

[_Ardia leaves her father and moves to edge of parapet_]

_Bion._ [_Following her_] Dost know a better way?

_Ard._ I pray you, leave me.

_Vig._ Princess of Avesta!

_Ard._ Your supper waits.

_Vig._ [_Starting right_] Come, brother!

_Char._ Though I've supped, I'll sit with you, my sons. Discourse is ever The best dish at the board.

_Bion._ We thank you, sir.

[_Exeunt Biondel, Vigard, Charilus, right_]

_Ard._ And am I wooed and won? Dreams of a dream, Where are ye now?... A lover with no song.

No carols stealing sweetness from the moon; No trembling hand to drop a morning rose Where I may walk.

[_Takes a rose from her bosom and casts it away_]

No rose.... no Vairdelan!

[_Re-enter Gaina_]

_Gaina._ Here, mistress? Dearie dear, a-weeping?

_Ard._ No.

_Gaina._ Say you were, 'twere a better sight than this fetching of dry sighs. They 'most take the skin of a woe that a little tear-water would bring up easy enough.

_Ard._ O, Gaina, Gaina, did you see my mother buried?

_Gaina._ Ay, 'twas a sweet grave we laid her in over in Corinth. You'll never make as pretty a corpse, my dear.

_Ard._ Was I there?

_Gaina._ Troth, you were, and trouble enough you gave me. You wanted to climb into the coffin and go to sleep too, you said.

_Ard._ O, had you buried me with her I should not have seen this day!

_Gaina._ Most like you wouldn't. Come, honey dove, come to your room and brighten yourself a bit. There's the new veil just begging to be looked at. I'll put it on you, and----

_Ard._ No, I don't want you. [_Going, right_]

_Gaina._ O, ho, I can read his name you do want, and not kill a bird for it either.

_Ard._ [_Turning_] Who, magpie? Who?

_Gaina._ Your eyes may save my tongue if they squint sou'west.

_Ard._ Is he coming?

_Gaina._ Who, my cuckoo? Who?

[_Bertrand enters left. Ardia starts off right_]

_Ber._ Ardia!

_Ard._ [_Weakly, pausing at her door_] Vairdelan....

_Ber._ Will not you stay?

_Ard._ I will return. [_Exit_]

_Ber._ Your mistress is not well?

_Gaina._ You've eyes, sir.

_Ber._ This fear of Oswald----

_Gaina._ Her trouble's nearer home, sir.

_Ber._ Her father----

_Gaina._ Nay, it wears no beard, though it may in time.

_Ber._ What troubles her, dear Gaina?