Georgian Poetry 1913-15 Part 8
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Merryn:
Mercy o' mercies, everybody asks me For Gormflaith, then for Gormflaith, then for Gormflaith, And I ask everybody else for her; But she is nowhere, and the King will foam.
Send me no more; I am old with running about After a bodiless name.
Goneril:
She has been here, And she has left the Queen. This is her deed.
Merryn:
Ah, cruel, cruel! The shame, the pity--
Goneril:
Lift.
[Together they raise HYGD, and carry her to bed.]
She breathes, but something flitters under her flesh: Wynoc the leech must help us now. Go, run, Seek him, and come back quickly, and do not dare To come without him.
Merryn:
It is useless, lady: There's fever at the cowherd's in the marsh, And Wynoc broods above it twice a day, And I have lately seen him hobble thither.
Goneril:
I never heard such scornful wickedness As that a king's physician so should choose To watch and even heal base men and poor-- And, more than all, when there's a queen a-dying ...
Hygd (recovering consciousness):
Whence come you, dearest daughter? What have I done?
Are you a dream? I thought I was alone.
Have you been hunting on the Windy Height?
Your hands are not thus gentle after hunting.
Or have I heard you singing through my sleep?
Stay with me now: I have had piercing thoughts Of what the ways of life will do to you To mould and maim you, and I have a power To bring these to expression that I knew not.
Why do you wear my crown? Why do you wear My crown I say? Why do you wear my crown?
I am falling, falling! Lift me: hold me up.
[GONERIL climbs on the bed and supports HYGD against her shoulder.]
It is the bed that breaks, for still I sink.
Grip harder: I am slipping!
Goneril:
Woman, help!
[MERRYN hurries round to the front of the bed and supports HYGD on her other side. HYGD points at the far corner of the room.]
Hygd:
Why is the King's mother standing there?
She should not wear her crown before me now.
Send her away, she had a savage mind.
Will you not hang a shawl across the corner So that she cannot stare at me again?
[With a rending sob she buries her face in GONERIL'S bosom.]
Ah, she is coming! Do not let her touch me!
Brave splendid daughter, how easily you save me: But soon will Gormflaith come, she stays for ever.
O, will she bring my crown to me once more?
Yes, Gormflaith, yes ... Daughter, pay Gormflaith well.
Goneril:
Gormflaith has left you lonely: 'Tis Gormflaith who shall pay.
Hygd:
No, Gormflaith; Gormflaith ... Not my loneliness ...
Everything ... Pay Gormflaith ...
[Her head falls back over GONERIL'S shoulder and she dies.]
Goneril (laying Hygd down in bed again):
Send hors.e.m.e.n to the marshes for the leech, And let them bind him on a horse's back And bring him swiftlier than an old man rides.
Merryn:
Georgian Poetry 1913-15 Part 8
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Georgian Poetry 1913-15 Part 8 summary
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